


wolf like me

by knightspur



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Discussions of Sexuality/Homophobia, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Bottoming, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK, Minor Violence, Minor Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Mutual Pining, Pining, Platonic Cuddling, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Switching, Xu Minghao: Disaster Gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 04:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 100,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13943061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/pseuds/knightspur
Summary: "Did you…" Mingyu starts, trailing off, pink starting to creep into his cheeks. "Did you mean what you said before?""What did I say?" Minghao says, scrubbing the back of his hand against his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away and avoid the intensity of Mingyu's gaze at the same time."You said you like me," Mingyu says, his cheeks growing steadily redder. "The other day. Did you mean it?"—Mingyu and Minghao decide to move in together. That's where all the trouble begins.





	1. through the night

All Minghao wants to do at this point in the day is throw himself across the floor and fall asleep there. He doesn’t know what possessed him to think that he and Mingyu wouldn’t need any help moving all of their things into their second-floor apartment, other than an inflated ego and a hidden desire to have sore muscles for the next week.

He sets the last box full of god knows what down on the floor of their tiny kitchen and slides to the floor with a long groan, nudging it away from him with his knee. He can hear Mingyu’s heavy footsteps coming up the outside stairs and Minghao knows even before he comes through the door that he’s going to have the same huge, goofy smile on his face that he did when they started moving boxes over an hour ago. The thought doesn’t annoy Minghao as much as it usually would— if he’s learned anything about Mingyu at this point it’s that he’s impossible to keep down for long.

True to form, Mingyu still looks as cheerful as he did when they were loading boxes into his too small car early in the morning. Minghao looks up at him from his spot on the floor with a frown, his lower lip stuck out just a little.

“I’m not moving any more shit,” he says, nudging the closest box away with his foot. Mingyu laughs, setting the box in his arms down and shaking his head.

“I think we’re all done,” he says, glancing over at their empty living space with a shake of his head. “We still gotta find a couch, though.”

“The floor is fine,” Minghao says, stretching his arms out at his sides. Mingyu laughs, walking over and sinking down next to Minghao, bending his knees to make space for his long legs on the currently cluttered floor. He leans his head back against one of their cabinets, his body tilting to the side until his shoulder is resting against Minghao’s.

Seated close like this, Mingyu is pretty much the only thing that Minghao can smell; clean sweat from moving, a hint of the usual musky Alpha smell and the mix of coffee and chocolate that he’s come to associate with Mingyu. It’s not normal for two Alphas to be quite so cuddly, with Mingyu nuzzling his face into a more comfortable spot on Minghao’s thin shoulder. But it’s also not exactly the norm for them to be moving in with each other either and neither bothers Minghao at all.

“Gonna have to unpack your bed, at least,” Mingyu says and Minghao shoves at his shoulder with a grunt.

“Don’t remind me,” he says, leaning his cheek against the top of Mingyu’s head. “I don’t wanna move for at least three days.”

“Don’t you have dance practice tomorrow?” Mingyu says, giggling a little. Minghao huffs out a sigh, jabbing his fingers at Mingyu’s side until he yelps and wiggles away.

“I don’t _want_ to move for three days,” he says, punctuating the added emphasis with glare thrown in Mingyu’s direction. Mingyu rolls his eyes, pushing himself up off the floor and holding a hand out to Minghao.

“You’ll feel better once you see the place unpacked,” Mingyu says, pulling Minghao up once Minghao grasps his hand. Minghao scowls, looking around at all the boxes before inclining his head slightly.

“Probably,” he says, stretching his arms over his head with a long groan, trying to stretch out his shoulders. “Which room do you want?”

Mingyu hums at that, one hand tucked in his back pocket, leaning to the side to stare at the two empty bedrooms. “I’ll take the one by the door, I guess.”

Minghao nods, walking into their living room and scooping up the box marked _bed_ in messily scrawled characters. Mingyu’s boxes are neatly marked and his stuff is probably much more meticulously packed. Minghao tosses the box on the bare bed before opening it up and pulling out both his bedding and a hoodie that got tossed in while he was packing, along with a few pairs of socks and one of his practice shirts.

Mingyu looks at the assembled pile of stuff next to Minghao’s sheets and laughs, shaking his head. “Did you get Jun-hyung to help you pack?”

“As much as he helps with anything,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes and doing his best to shake the wrinkles out of the sheets. They’re freshly washed and when he snaps them open the fabric leaves a nice clean, cotton smell hanging in the air.

Unlike Minghao’s clothes, most of which are doomed to constantly reek of Jun and his Omega pheromones until Minghao gets rid of them, since his clothing is always the victim of being stolen whenever it strikes Jun’s fancy. Mingyu takes hold of the other side of the sheet, stretching it across to the other end of the bed and managing to get a proper sharp corner out of it.

As soon as the sheet is properly in place, Minghao flops face first onto the bed and squeezes his eyes shut. “Great. I’m unpacked.”

From above him, Minghao can hear Mingyu laugh before he flops onto the bed, laying half on top of Minghao. He rumbles a half-hearted growl, doing his best to wiggle out from under the bulk of Mingyu’s body.

“If you don’t unpack your clothes they’re gonna get wrinkled,” he says, his voice close to Minghao’s ear. Minghao sighs, managing to wiggle free of Mingyu finally.

“Shouldn’t you deal with your own stuff instead of bugging me?” Minghao says, rolling to the side and crossing his arms over his chest. Mingyu still stretched out on his stomach, legs hanging off the end of the bed, shrugs one of his shoulders with a smile.

“I can do both,” Mingyu says, his smile growing wider when Minghao rolls his eyes. “You can’t be sick of me already.”

“Can’t I?” Minghao says, giggling when Mingyu’s face falls just a little bit. He slaps the back of Mingyu’s shoulder hard once before pushing himself back to his feet, shaking his head. “If you’re gonna be in here you should at least help.”

He could complain about Mingyu getting his dark, earthy, coffee and chocolate smell all over the freshly made bed, but he doesn’t really mind it. Truth be told, Minghao has always had a distinct preference for the smell of other Alphas over any other gender.

(The preference extends far past _smell_ , but that’s something Minghao likes keeping to himself.)

Mingyu hums, looking like he’s thinking it over before sitting up on his elbows, leaning his head to the side. It makes his bangs fall into his eyes, the long black strands getting caught up in the blink of his eyelashes. Minghao pauses in reaching for the next box, catching himself staring for just a moment too long.

“Well?” He says, shaking himself out of it. “You can’t just lay in my bed all day.”

“Alright alright,” Mingyu says, sitting up finally and shaking his head. “I should go set up my own room.”

“You should,” Minghao agrees, kicking Mingyu’s ankle softly. “Don’t bug me until you’re done with that, at least.”

“What about dinner?” Mingyu asks, pausing in the doorway with his brow slightly furrowed. Minghao looks at him, taking a slight sniff of the hoodie and wrinkling his nose at the overly sweet, floral smell clinging to the fabric. He’s used to everything smelling strongly of Jun, but this at least will have to go back in the wash before Minghao can wear it again.

“Takeout?” He says, tossing the hoodie onto the bed with a laugh. “We don’t really have any food to cook.”

“So we need a couch and groceries,” Mingyu says, his smile getting a little wider. Minghao laughs, nodding his head and turning toward the door as well.

It takes a few hours for the two of them to unpack to a reasonable degree— most of Minghao’s clothing put away and the bathroom and kitchen put into some kind of order. There’s a stack of emptied boxes sitting in the middle of the living room.

The two of them end up sitting against one of the walls picking at cartons of takeout food. Every time Mingyu’s chopsticks wander over to snatch some piece of Minghao’s chicken Minghao growls, though it’s little more than habit, there’s no real threat behind it.

Mingyu grins, lifting his eyebrows as he pops a piece of Minghao’s chicken in his mouth.

“It’s nice,” Mingyu says, leaning his head back and looking around the mostly empty room. Minghao hums, resting his shoulder against Mingyu’s and stealing a bite of his noodles in return. Mingyu doesn’t seem bothered, holding up another bite to Minghao’s mouth. Minghao leans forward to close his mouth around Mingyu's chopsticks, rolling his eyes when Mingyu makes a slightly dismayed sound.

"You could have just grabbed them," he says, wrinkling his nose when he pulls the chopsticks away from Minghao's mouth. Minghao shrugs one shoulder, grinning as he chews on the mouthful of noodles.

"You offered," he says, still leaning his weight comfortably into Mingyu's side. Rather than argue the point further, Mingyu goes back to eating with a slight shake of his head.

As content as Minghao was with the idea of moving in with Mingyu, he didn't expect to feel quite so settled right off the bat. They don't even have any furniture to sit on, but the tiny apartment already feels something like home. Maybe it's because Minghao has been bouncing between makeshift arrangements since he left China, barely a teenager, before he'd even presented. This is the first place, outside of the dorm he shared with Jun his freshman year, that's really been his own. 

And if Mingyu adds a little bit more to that comfortable feeling, that's just as well.

**{* * *}**

The best part, so far, of living with Mingyu has definitely been coming home to find that there’s already something to eat. When he steps through the doorway he can already smell whatever Mingyu is cooking, stepping out of his shoes and using one foot to nudge them in a neat line next to Mingyu’s.

“Hey,” he says, making is way over to the monster of a couch they managed to find for a pretty good price. 

It's slightly crooked, a testament to how they struggled with getting the heavy, leather sofa into the room and upon dropping it and nearly severing all of Mingyu's toes, decided to leave it exactly where it fell.

Mingyu sits up, draping his arms over the back of the couch and looking up at Minghao with a smile. "Hey. Welcome back."

"You made dinner?" He asks, nodding at the delicious, slightly spicy smell that's wafting out of the kitchen. Mingyu nods, swinging up to his feet and combing his bangs out of his face.

"Yeah. It's just stew," he says like his stew isn't fit to be an offering for the Gods.

He looks overdressed for someone lounging around on the couch and making stew; jeans with rips across the thighs and a loose white shirt with the first few buttons left open, revealing the tanned column of his throat. Minghao only pays attention to these things because of his personal eye for fashion, but Mingyu looks nice. He stretches his shoulders and for a moment the buttons of his shirt strain across his chest before he relaxes once again.

"Your class got out early," Mingyu says, suddenly standing close. Minghao almost jumps away out of surprise and instinct, but Mingyu leans down to bump their foreheads together in greeting and he holds still for it.

Strictly speaking, there's no real reason for Mingyu to greet him like this every time he walks into the apartment. Their scents are mingled over most of it at this point and it isn't like Mingyu needs the reminder of what Minghao smells like. But Mingyu is friendly and even if it takes a little bit of adjusting to, Minghao doesn't mind the quick nudges of Mingyu's temple against his.

"Just a little bit," he says, after Mingyu retreats back to the simmering pot in the kitchen, stepping out of his shoes. "You going on a date or something?"

"Huh?" Mingyu says, looking over his shoulder. He catches on after a second, plucking at his shirt with a shy laugh. "Oh, yeah. There's some kind of mixer thing tonight that Wonwoo-hyung invited me to."

"So you are dressed up," Minghao says, tossing himself across the couch with a little groan. Mingyu glances himself over again with a little laugh.

"I guess. I wasn't sure if I was going or not," he says, putting the lid back on the pot and turning around, leaning his back against the counter. "Do you wanna come too?"

"Nope," Minghao says, grinning a little as he digs his phone out of his pocket. There's a constant parade of different dating events put on by various clubs on campus but Minghao has never attended any of them.

It's not that he's against them (though he sort of is), or that he's not interested in dating (though he really isn’t). The events are designed to cater to the _natural order_ of things. Most of them specifically set up Alphas with Omegas, or Betas if it’s a particularly progressive crowd.

Not a great place for Minghao to try hitting on other Alphas.

Mingyu, saint that he is, doesn't press Minghao for any further answers but instead turns to fiddle with the rice cooker he inherited from one of his sisters. In the long run, Minghao knows he's going to have a hard time hiding his sexuality from Mingyu now that they're living together. It's only going to take one awkward walk of shame, or Mingyu catching the wrong person leaving their place in the middle of the night for him to figure it out. As far as Minghao can tell, Mingyu is from a pretty traditional family himself and even though he's never acted uptight about these things, Minghao can't help but be apprehensive.

"I can stay in if you wanna do something," Mingyu says, apparently satisfied with the state of his rice. He comes back to the couch, frowning until Minghao moves his legs to make space. As soon as Mingyu is in his seat, Minghao drapes both calves over his lap, setting his phone to the side and shaking his head.

"Nah. Wonwoo-hyung needs a wingman anyway," Minghao says, grinning just a little. Mingyu smiles in return, draping one of his arms over the back of the couch.

"That's true," he says, his other hand toying with the strands of his bangs. "I just feel bad leaving you behind."

"Don't worry about me," Minghao says, sitting up halfway and shaking his head. "I'll get Jun-ge to go out with me or something."

"Oh. Okay," Mingyu says, looking considerably brighter knowing that Minghao won't be spending the whole night pathetic and by himself. It's a little cute, even if Minghao would be perfectly happy spending the evening in bed watching Chinese romance dramas that Jun has dismissed as being "too cheesy".

He should try watching some of them with Mingyu sometime.

They eat dinner sprawled over each other on the couch, Mingyu narrowly managing to avoid ruining his dressy white shirt.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna come?” Mingyu asks, leaning his head gently to the side. It’s nice of him to try, at least, and without thinking, Minghao reaches out to brush Mingyu’s bangs away from his eyes.

He’s not usually so touchy with other people— it seems like living with Mingyu is already starting to wear off on him.

“Nah,” he says, pulling his hand back before any other weird impulse can take hold of him. “Mixers aren’t really my thing.”

“Alright,” Mingyu says, pushing himself up off the couch with a little sigh. “Suit yourself.”

Minghao rolls his eyes, stretching his limbs out over the couch once more, waving when Mingyu lets himself out. Rather than text Jun, Minghao decides he really does want to spend the rest of the night with his cheesy romance dramas and some much-needed solitude.

**{* * *}**

"How is it that I got stuck doing this?" Minghao grumbles, scowling at the tiny sheet of instructions in his lap. The pieces of Jun's stupid new bed are scattered around the room and Jun is perched on the desk on the other side of the room, his head leaning slightly to the side while he watches Minghao glare at the tiny bag of screws in his hand.

"I told you I'd help," Jun says and Minghao lifts his head to shoot him a glare. It's true that Jun did offer, but Minghao knows him well enough to know that his 'help' will only end up making things worse. Jun smiles in return, curling his legs under him. "Besides if you don't do it I'll take over your bed instead."

"Where have you been sleeping the last three days?" Minghao says, flipping the sheet over. He regrets the question as soon as he asks it because he definitely doesn't actually want to know. He's done his best up till this point in life to have as few compromising images of Jun in his head as possible.

"On the couch," Jun says, glancing up from his phone. Minghao is quiet for a moment and Jun puffs his cheeks out in a sulk that Minghao doesn't deserve. "Don't be a pervert."

"Yah, do you want me to build your bed or not?" Minghao snaps, holding the screwdriver next to his hip up threateningly. Jun laughs, the pout falling off of his place in face of a grin and Minghao wrinkles his nose, barely resisting the urge to throw things in his direction. He turns back to reading the instructions and trying to make some sense out of the diagrams though they're barely big enough for him to make out a single detail.

Jun is uncharacteristically cooperative in helping Minghao put the frame together in a way that he's at least 60% sure is correct.

"Did you and Mingyu-ya have to put stuff together like this?" Jun asks, sitting in the middle of the assembled frame while Minghao attempts to determine if it'll actually hold up to having a mattress placed on top of it, let alone the strain of keeping up with Jun.

"Not really," Minghao says, rocking the frame back and forth with his hand. It sways precariously, letting out a loud squeak when it settles back into place. "Mingyu is good with his hands anyway."

He nudges Jun a little out of the way, kneeling down to try and tighten the screws further without making the wood shatter to pieces. "You bought a crappy bed."

"Or I asked the wrong person," Jun says, stretching his legs out and looking up at Minghao with a grin. "I should have made you bring Mingyu-ya."

"I can text him," Minghao says, sitting down next to Jun with a sigh. In fairness, he has no idea how to put things together and Jun _should_ have called someone with a better track record for this kind of thing. Jun wiggles closer as soon as he sits, hooking his chin over Minghao's shoulder when he pulls his phone out. He's going to leave reeking of Jun once again and he's not that happy with the prospect of it.

"You've been texting him a lot," Jun says, making no secret out of reading Minghao's messages over his shoulder. Minghao hums, only half paying attention as he types out another message. It's more Mingyu texting him frequently than anything but the difference probably doesn't mean anything to Jun. "You don't text me that much."

"I don't like talking to you that much," Minghao says, turning to roll his eyes at Jun. Jun doesn't pout at him, still looking at the screen of Minghao's phone with one of his eyebrows lifted.

"You guys are going grocery shopping?" He asks, hooking one of his arms around Minghao's side with a laugh. His usual instinct is to argue with anything that Jun is saying but at the moment Minghao isn't sure what he's fighting with. It doesn't seem strange to him to go buy food with Mingyu, or even to be texting him more than other people.

"So what?" He says, more a grumble than he intends it to be.

"How domestic," Jun says, rubbing his cheek against Minghao's before finally releasing him. "Is that why you smell weird?"

"I don't smell weird," Minghao says, elbowing Jun away from him with a shake of his head. He doesn't give in to the urge to sniff at himself to see if he really does smell odd but Jun just pushes himself back to his feet to go rescue his own phone from the desk.

"You smell more Alpha-y than normal," Jun says, his back turned. Minghao takes the chance to sniff at his own shoulder but he can't smell anything out of the ordinary, just a lot of Jun's pheromones clinging to his shirt and the bright, clean smell of the laundry detergent that Mingyu bought. He didn't even work up a real sweat trying and failing to set up Jun's bed properly.

"Mingyu said he can come help in like, an hour," Minghao says, setting his phone down next to his hip. "Have you really been sleeping on the couch?"

"Cross my heart," Jun says, setting his phone down and looking over with a grin. "Jihoonie won't let me sleep in his bed."

"That's smart of him," Minghao says, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out as much as he can. "You're like an octopus."

"Is that why you've been cuddling with Mingyu instead?" Jun asks and Minghao blinks hard for a moment before his brain catches up with the question.

"Why would I be cuddling with Mingyu?" He says, frowning.

Jun lifts one shoulder in a shrug but there's a sharp look on his face. "You smell like you've been cuddling with him."

As much as Minghao is pretty certain he doesn't smell like Mingyu, or at least not more than could be expected of someone he's living with, it feels like a weird thing to be arguing with Jun about, especially because Jun doesn't look like he's just trying to annoy Minghao. Minghao scowls, narrowing his eyes at Jun, waiting for him to cough up a better answer.

"You can't smell it?" Jun asks and this time Minghao shakes his head reluctantly. "You must have gotten used to it."

Something about the way he says that doesn't sit right with Minghao but he can't even begin to explain to himself what. Jun shrugs once more, holding a hand out to pull Minghao back to his feet. Minghao takes it, stumbling a little when his foot catches the edge of the bed. The frame rocks slightly before the side Minghao touched simply falls to the floor with a loud _clap_. The other three sides follow, the screws ringing gently as they hit the wood floor.

Minghao stands still holding onto Jun's hand until everything settles. He groans, hanging his head.

"Guess you do need Mingyu's help," he grumbles, stepping carefully over the wood and shaking his head. Jun follows after him, barely restraining his giggles.

**{* * *}**

As long as his day has been, Minghao is looking to nothing more than just getting home and spending as long as he can get away with standing in a very hot shower in the hopes that his muscles will stop aching.

The start of the new semester has led to a startling uptick in Soonyoung’s energy levels, which means he’s intent on working the rest of them to death. Minghao manages to heave his bag onto his shoulder without falling over, which puts him in better shape than Soonyoung’s new freshman acquisition currently sprawled out on the cool wood floor of the dance studio. Minghao smiles a little, nudging Chan’s leg with the toe of his shoe.

“You gonna make it?” He asks, nudging him once again when Chan swats weakly at his ankle. With a whine, Chan rolls to the side to look up at Minghao, still pushing his sweaty bangs away from his face.

“How are you still standing?” He says, his cheeks puffed out in a pout. Minghao lifts his free shoulder in a shrug, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Soonyoung won't pop up out of nowhere.

“You’ll get used to it,” he says, holding out a hand to pull Chan up off of the floor. “Eventually your body learns how to keep up with Soonyoung’s… directions.”

Chan uses Minghao’s hand to pull himself properly upright, stretching his arms over his head with a groan. He’s not surprised at all that Soonyoung managed to charm the young Alpha into joining the dance company, and at least this one has the skills to keep up with the rest of them. It’s a welcome break from the parade of meatheads that join up because they’ve taken an interest in Soonyoung or Jun. At least so far Chan hasn’t seemed interested in sniffing around either of them.

Even slight short of breath still, Chan has a bright smile on his face. “Is that why Soonyoung-hyung and Jun-hyung left already?”

“I try not to know what they’re doing,” Minghao says, tossing a small glance over his shoulder to make sure that the two of them have really gone. Chan giggles, turning toward the door when it swings open.

To Minghao’s surprise, it’s Mingyu standing in the doorway, looking at the two of them with a wave and a smile. Minghao’s head leans a little to the side, blinking curiously. Usually, Mingyu has class until well after Minghao’s finished with practice.

“I got out early so I thought I’d see if you were still around,” he says. Minghao catches himself smiling and does his best to wipe it off his face, combing his hair out of his face instead. “Wanna get some coffee?”

“Sure,” Minghao says, shifting his bag on his shoulder with a slight huff. He probably reeks of pheromones from all the sweat and exercise but if it bothers Mingyu at all it doesn’t show on his face. Mingyu gives Chan a bright smile and a small wave.

“You can come along too if you want,” he says and when Minghao turns to agree Mingyu reaches and takes the bag off of his shoulder, looping it over his own instead. “I work at the coffee shop so usually I get stuff free.”

The puffed up Alpha part of Minghao’s brain is taking great issue with Mingyu carrying his stuff for him as if Mingyu thinks he’s not strong enough to carry things on his own. But he also can’t deny the soreness in his shoulders and how much better his back feels without the weight of his bag hanging off of him.

It doesn’t help that Mingyu has such an open, earnest look on his face and Minghao is finding it harder and harder to tell him no on anything. So, he doesn’t say anything about it and when Chan politely declines the offer to go with them Minghao is left to deal with Mingyu by himself.

Which isn’t an issue, of course. The two of them live together, after all, and it’s led to them spending more time together than Minghao really anticipated.

As could be expected at the scant few minutes students get between classes, there are plenty of people crowding into the small coffee shop that Mingyu works at. Mingyu stands a step or two closer than usual, trying his hardest to keep his long limbs out of the way of other people. They’re standing close enough that Mingyu’s elbow bumps into Minghao’s side and he glances down with an apologetic smile. 

Minghao has been getting used to Mingyu's naturally clingy nature and he barely notices the slight brush of Mingyu's skin against his save for the slight tingling that it leaves behind. The benefit of going anywhere with Mingyu is that even outside of his workplace free things tend to follow wherever he goes. The big oaf doesn't even seem to notice the effect that his smiles have on people.

It's charming in a simple, sweet kind of way, the sort of thing that only Mingyu can achieve with his utter lack of malice. He thinks that people are generous with him because that's the way people are, rather than because he's hot. Minghao finds it annoying sometimes for reasons that he can't quite explain to himself, like the way the chipper Beta behind the counter making a pair of iced americanos for them with a blush staining her whole face makes his temper flare just a little.

It isn't as if Minghao is really in the position to be turning down free things, and Mingyu is unattached and completely unaware of the attention he draws. But Minghao can't help the slight scowl on his face when he collects his coffee like the girl has somehow crossed a line by simply being flustered by Mingyu.

He can't explain to himself exactly where that feeling comes from and really, he isn't sure that he actually wants to know either. Mingyu rests the bright red straw of his coffee against his lower lip, looking down at Minghao with a grin.

"Aren't you glad I got done early?" He asks, lifting his eyebrows, obviously waiting for some appreciation in return for getting free coffee for the both of them. Minghao huffs out a single breath, rolling his eyes and nudging Mingyu along next to him.

"It's too crowded in there," he says once they get outside, taking a slow sip of his coffee. Mingyu's smile deflates a little and after all the years of dealing with Jun's terrible pouty expressions, Minghao shouldn't be so weak to the minor crestfallen look on Mingyu's face.

Except he is, far more than he has any reason to be.

"Thanks for the drink," he says, bumping his elbow against Mingyu's to get his attention. It was nice of Mingyu to take the time to walk home with him, after all. And to carry his things. Mingyu bounds a few steps ahead like a pleased puppy and Minghao, after a grudging moment of trying to ignore his skipping, has to admit that it's a little bit cute.

"Calm down," he says, barely keeping himself from laughing. "You're gonna trip."

"I will not," Mingyu says, approximately two seconds before he stumbles on a crack in the sidewalk and nearly ends up splayed over the pavement. He catches himself and laughs, giving Minghao a shy smile.

Minghao just shakes his head, raising one eyebrow in Mingyu's direction rather than taking the time to say _'I told you so'_ like Mingyu deserves. Mingyu doesn't offer to give his bag back and Minghao doesn't try to take it.

It makes him feel a little odd, having Mingyu carry all his stuff for no reason other than Mingyu apparently wants to do it. It isn't generally something you'd do for another Alpha, at least not without it being taken fully as an insult.

Despite being the product of a pretty traditional Alpha/Omega home, Mingyu seems quick to ignore some of the finer quirks that come along with his status. It doesn't bother Minghao, at least not exactly, but it makes it a little hard to pin Mingyu down the way he wants to be able to.

Mingaho, on the other hand, fits a handful of bad Alpha habits far too well. Short of being horny for every Omega that happens to cross his path— he's too short-fused, quick to fight and quick to compete in equal measures. He also tends to guard the things that he's decided are _his_ with more fervor than they require, whether those things are people, or a prime spot on the couch, or an unmarked drink left in the fridge.

Mingyu is easier, more untroubled with less of the stereotypical Alpha-ness that always lands Minghao in trouble. It's why they work so well as friends, and now as roommates, maybe. There's less space for their personalities to clash on anything more than their day to day bickering.

So when Mingyu swings the door open before Minghao, his long legs making the two flights of stairs leading up to their apartment easy, it doesn't feel like he's showing off. Minghao just rolls his eyes and jabs his elbow at Mingyu's unprotected stomach as he goes by, laughing when the air puffs loudly out of his lungs.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I feel gross," Minghao says, tossing the words over his shoulder as Mingyu shuts the door and settles Minghao's bag gently on the couch next to his own. He expects some kind of ready agreement because even if he can't really smell it himself he must still reek of Alpha pheromones with the sweat already sticky and dried on his skin.

But Mingyu just nods, standing in the middle of the room and scratching at the back of his neck with half a smile crawling up his cheek. "Make sure you put your stuff in the laundry."

"Sure thing, mom," Minghao says, yanking his shirt over his head as he goes, making a show of balling it up between his hands and dropping it in the tall plastic hamper that they keep standing outside of their claustrophobic bathroom.

For a second, just before he swings the door shut behind him it looks like Mingyu is standing in the same spot and staring at him with wide, dark pupils but by the time Minghao has the hot, needling spray of the shower against his back he's written it off as a trick of the light.

**{* * *}**

Whoever decided it was a good idea to have Minghao, Mingyu, and Seokmin trying to study in the same room should probably be banished from suggesting anything ever again. They've been gathered in Minghao and Mingyu's living room for the past hour, seated on the floor around the rickety slab of wood that sort of passes for a table and if a single thing had actually been accomplished in that time, Minghao would be shocked.

There's a small pile of chips surrounding Seokmin, all of which Mingyu failed to actually toss into his mouth and Seokmin's textbook is sitting sad and neglected with no fewer than four of the lost chips spread across its open pages.

Usually, Minghao has the dubious honor of being the only one with any focus out of the three of them but today even he can't manage to get through his reading, no matter what mix of stubbornness and threats he employs to try and drag the other two along. They're all going to flunk out, probably, and Minghao will have to pay their rent by striking up a career as a busker until he gets caught by immigration and deported.

It's a grim future but at least it saves him from having to watch yet another chip bounce off the tip of Seokmin's nose and get caught by his shirt.

"I'm bored," Seokmin declares, lifting his head and finally shutting his mouth for a moment. Minghao glares at him, his lips gathered together in a scowl. If he's going to complain he should at least have the good manners to _try_ studying first.

"How can you be bored?" He asks, slamming his own book shut with a sharp snap, probably wrinkling the pages. "All you two have done is goof off."

"That's not true!" Mingyu says, looking genuinely wounded by the accusation. He holds up the paper he's been intermittently scribbling on with a little grin on his face. "See? I sketched you."

It's not an accurate likeness of Minghao, instead, it's a grumpy looking cartoon dragon breathing fire on a stack of assorted papers and books. Mingyu has one of those wide, stupid smiles on his face and Minghao knows it means he's expecting something nice to be said.

Minghao sort of wants to take the paper and crumple it up just to get rid of the tickly, flustered feeling in his chest. He doesn't, only because the drawing is kind of cute. He rolls his eyes, leaning over like he's planning on snatching the paper only to change directions at the last second when Mingyu leans forward to protect his creation, flicking him on the exposed forehead.

Mingyu whines pathetically, rubbing at the red spot left on his forehead. Seokmin laughs, clapping his hands together and rocking back and forth in his spot. He stops when Minghao turns to give him a menacing look, holding his hand up and raising one eyebrow.

"You're next," he says, flicking his finger in the air to make sure the threat hits home. Seokmin quits his laughing at least, though he makes no move to pull his book back in his lap.

Still, the two of them are done loudly goofing off, at least for the moment. Mingyu finally stops rubbing his forehead and for a second Minghao has the most bizarre desire to apologize, probably because of the truly pathetic puppy dog eyes that Mingyu is shooting in his direction. He shakes his head, mostly to clear it of any other weird, Mingyu-related thoughts before looking back down at the book in his lap, trying to at least salvage his own grades.

Really, it's too early in the semester to expect any of them to actually want to spend the better part of a Saturday afternoon hitting the books, but after some fantastic feats of procrastination lead to Seokmin having a near breakdown the year before, Minghao figures a little structure could do them all some good.

Not that it stops him from sending a few longing glances out the window himself, of course. Apparently sensing the slight distraction, Mingyu sinks to the side until he’s leaning against Minghao.

“Are you wilting?” Minghao asks, tearing his eyes away from the inviting sunny day outside to look at Mingyu. He means to glare in an effort to get Mingyu off of him, but the expression never actually makes it to his face. He winds up smiling instead, poking the faded red mark on Mingyu’s forehead with one finger.

“Something like that.” Mingyu grins and something catches in the middle of Minghao’s chest. For a second all he can hear is the blood pounding in his ears and it isn’t until Mingyu giggles that Minghao actually remembers to look away.

He doesn’t miss the raised eyebrows that Seokmin shoots in his direction but he does choose to ignore it. There’s nothing to read into between him and Mingyu, even if Seokmin has a little grin on his face like he thinks something is going on.

Seokmin has the dubious honor of being one of the few people other than Jun to know about Minghao’s particular preferences after having caught him making out with another Alpha at a party. He’s kept the secret, at least from everyone except Soonyoung.

Minghao scowls in Seokmin’s direction even though he’s definitely not doing anything to discourage Mingyu treating him like furniture. Mingyu’s cheek is resting against his shoulder and he drags his book across his lap rather than sitting up. Seokmin rolls his eyes, though Minghao would argue that after all the PDA they’ve been forced to witness between him and Soonyoung that he has no reason to complain. At least he would say something about it if he weren’t aware that Soonyoung and Seokmin are _dating_ , which is something Minghao and Mingyu definitely aren’t.

So in spite of the weird, twisty feeling in his chest Minghao does his best to ignore Seokmin and the warmth of Mingyu leaning into his side. Neither of them are really helping with the actual task of studying but as so often seems to happen when Mingyu is involved, it’s impossible for Minghao to just tell him off.

He settles further into his spot, not bothering to try and brush Mingyu off, doing his best to focus on his reading.

**{* * *}**

Waking up in the middle of the night with someone attempting to wedge their way into his bed should probably be a more alarming experience for Minghao. But, after living for a year with Jun, and having known him for much longer, it’s not that surprising anymore when he wakes up to find Jun blinking at him in the dark, a small smile on his face.

Even though there’s no surprise, it’s certainly still annoying.

“How did you even get in?” Minghao says, his voice still raspy with sleep, wiggling to the side to allow Jun space to lay down properly next to him. Jun seems intent on not letting him get far away, pulling one of Minghao’s arms around his waist. He butts the top of his head against Minghao’s chin, curling their bodies close together with a little hum.

“You gave me a spare key, remember?” He says, and tired as he is Minghao does sort of remember doing that. A stupid move on his part— he should have known that this was the sort of thing that Jun was likely to consider an emergency worthy of simply letting himself into Minghao’s apartment in the middle of the night.

Not that keeping the key from Jun would have done much to keep him out.

As much as he would love to argue with being Jun’s personal space heater, Minghao has always found it hard to deny Jun almost anything. So, with a long sigh, he settles in more comfortably to the new spot on his bed, rubbing his hand up and down Jun’s back.

“What’s wrong this time?” He asks after a little while when Jun’s breathing refuses to settle into the slow cadence of sleep. He can feel the tension in all of Jun’s wiry limbs and it puts him on edge as well. He might not be affected by Omegas, at least in general, but he’s known Jun since he first moved to Korea. They’re responsible for each other, almost like pack. It makes Jun’s emotions hard to ignore.

Jun doesn’t answer right away so Minghao leans back a little, pinching the back of his arm with a frown. “I know you’re still awake.”

“It’s nothing,” Jun says, swatting Minghao’s hand away. He looks up with a smile, small and tenuous, expecting that the pathetic act will be enough to convince Minghao to drop the subject and just go to sleep.

It isn’t— Jun should know better than that.

“You can’t wake me up and then not tell me what the fuck is wrong,” Minghao says, shaking his head. He lets Jun curl back into him, his cheek pressing Minghao’s shoulder, hiding his face from view.

“I wasn’t trying to wake you,” Jun says, his voice a little muffled by the loose fabric of Minghao’s shirt.

“You should’ve crawled into Mingyu’s bed then,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” Jun says once again, drawing his knees close to Minghao’s. “I was just… lonely, I guess.”

“Don’t you have a place with Jihoon-hyung now?” Minghao asks, twisting a strand of Jun’s hair between his fingers. Jun laughs, nodding his head.

“I think he’d be pretty pissed if he woke up with me in his bed,” he says. Minghao has to agree with him there. He can pretend to be annoyed with Jun, but the both of them know he isn’t about to kick Jun out.

“Your new place is nice,” Jun says after a moment, looking up at Minghao with a little grin on his face. Minghao groans in response, pressing his face into the pillow.

“Go to sleep, Jun-ge,” he grumbles, most of his voice getting lost in the soft pillow under his head. Jun laughs, his voice still low, tilting his head back to rub his head against Minghao’s chin once again. In the morning it’s going to be a chore to wash all of Jun’s syrupy sweet Omega smell off of him but for now, Minghao just accepts the scent marking without bothering to complain.

It’s a common assumption among the people they know that Jun and Minghao are dating, or at least dancing around the subject. It used to be irritating every time Minghao heard it— just because they’ve known each other for years, and because they’re both Chinese, and because Jun is an Omega… but now Minghao doesn’t bother to do anything about the rumors. It’s never seemed to bother Jun much, especially because Minghao is his favorite Alpha to hang off of to avoid any overzealous suitors or one night stands that don’t quite get the hint. For his part, Minghao just has better things to do than correct every person’s stereotypical assumptions about his life.

“Do you like living with Mingyu-ya?” Jun asks, poking at Minghao’s cheek to get his attention once again. Minghao turns his head to the side, mouth open like he’s going to bite Jun’s finger. Jun just pokes the tip of his nose instead before pulling his hand back.

“It’s fine,” Minghao says after a moment. Jun is still holding his arm in place so Minghao can’t roll onto his back but he shifts as much as he can, glancing toward the door.

The walls don’t seem to be thin but he isn’t keen on the idea of Mingyu waking up and deciding to see who Minghao is talking to in the middle of the night, even if Jun has all his clothes on.

“Just fine?” Jun says, laughing a little as he prods at Minghao’s arm.

“I like it,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. “He’s not a pain in my ass, unlike you.”

Jun hums and when Minghao looks down at him again he has a look on his face that doesn’t sit quite right with Minghao. He can’t place it exactly, but Jun looks almost smug about something.

“What?” He says, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Nothing,” Jun says, a small smile on his face. “I’m glad you’re happy with it.”

"Go the hell to sleep," he says. Jun muffles a soft laugh, pressing his face against Minghao's arm and finally shutting his eyes.

"If you insist," he says, wiggling just a little because he apparently hasn't yet found the most comfortable position possible in Minghao's bed before finally settling down. "Sleep tight."

"Yeah, you too," Minghao says, shutting his eyes once again.

**{* * *}**

If he was hoping to get out of explaining to Mingyu why Jun was in their apartment overnight, that's dashed as soon as Minghao wakes up the obnoxious blaring of his alarm and the other half of his bed suspiciously empty.

He knows Jun well enough to expect that rather than just going _home_ , he's definitely in the kitchen helping himself to coffee and probably wheedling Mingyu into making him breakfast.

Minghao sits up, scrubbing his palm over his face and muffling a little groan into his hand before swinging his legs off the end of the bed and shuffling his way to the bathroom.

On the bright side, this means that Mingyu is definitely not going to suspect him of being queer. If anything they're going to have to have a very awkward conversation about Minghao's bedroom habits.

Which is just another thing to look forward to first thing in the morning.

True to form, when Minghao finishes brushing his teeth and decides he can't avoid going into the kitchen any longer Jun is there, sitting on the counter with Minghao's favorite mug in his hands, batting his eyelashes at a slightly confounded Mingyu.

"You slept in," Jun says, grinning when he catches sight of Minghao. Minghao rolls his eyes, brushing the flop of his bangs out of his eyes the best he can.

"I did not," he says, sounding just a little child-like. Jun grins, not even making an effort to hide it behind his mug. He leans his head toward Mingyu, his smile stretching just a little bit wider.

"I'm borrowing your chef," he says, the heels of his feet bumping against the thin wooden door of one of the cabinets as his legs sway back and forth. "He's nicer than you are in the mornings."

Minghao can't exactly argue with that one. He nudges Jun out of the way none too gently to get to the coffee maker hidden behind him, pouring the dregs at the bottom of the pot into another mug for himself.

He can feel Mingyu glancing nervously at the two of them from the stove, measuring if he should try and subtly sneak away and leave them alone. Minghao does his best combating his face's natural desire to remain in a permanent scowl in the mornings. He does not want to be left alone in the kitchen with Jun on the assumption that the two of them are going to make out or do something equally as gross.

"He didn't crawl into your bed too, did he?" Minghao asks, leaning his back on the counter. There's not really enough space in the kitchen for all three of them, but it means that Minghao is crunched into the scant few feet between Jun and Mingyu and it's sort of comfortable if a little claustrophobic.

"I don't think so," Mingyu says, laughing, his focus mostly on constructing the perfect omelet, most likely to sit on the steaming pile of fried rice already neatly mounded on a plate.

"Shame," Minghao says, glaring daggers in Jun's direction. He has a slightly odd look on his face, one that Minghao doesn't trust.

Mingyu doesn't seem to notice, flicking his wrist to get the eggs in the pan to flip over, making the whole maneuver look completely effortless. Minghao would be impressed if he hadn't spent the last few weeks eating the products of Mingyu's failures at trying to look fancy in the kitchen.

"Don't you have food at your place?" Minghao asks, setting his cup down and nudging one of Jun's knees.

"I don't have anyone to cook for me," Jun says, refusing to take the bait. He beams when Mingyu carefully settles the eggs on top of the rice, rubbing the back of his neck as he passes the whole plate over to Jun.

"I should um, get ready for work," he says, even though the schedule taped to the front of the fridge doesn't have him working until the afternoon.

He beats a hasty retreat from the kitchen and Minghao sighs, his shoulders slumping.

"What?" Jun asks from around a mouthful of food when Minghao turns to glare at him once more.

"Now he thinks we're fucking," Minghao says, his nose wrinkling in annoyance. Jun shrugs, the plate settled in his lap, still shoveling rice into his mouth.

"A lot of people think that," he says, not seeming to see the issue at hand.

Minghao could gladly scream, but that would definitely send Mingyu scrambling over himself back out to the kitchen, or worse it _wouldn't_ because he thinks Minghao is fucking Jun over the counter or something. Jun lifts one of his eyebrows, pausing in demolishing the plate of food.

“Does that bother you?” He asks and Minghao knows he’s making a face like Jun just shoved a lemon into his mouth. The answer is definitely yes, it does bother him that Mingyu thinks he and Jun are… something, he just doesn’t know why exactly.

Jun isn’t wrong, a lot of people think they’re fucking already and Minghao has never really put any effort into quashing that particular rumor. It works out just as well for him as it does Jun in the end. People ask a lot fewer questions than they would if Minghao were unattached. Having Jun so close means he doesn’t have to explain why he isn’t interested in every Omega that crosses his path.

But something about the situation with Mingyu is eating him and Minghao doesn’t know how to begin to explain it, especially to Jun of all people.

“I don’t wanna make him feel weird,” Minghao says, though that doesn’t really sum up what he thinks of it. “And I don’t want him to think I’m screwing you in the kitchen.”

Jun laughs and Minghao barely manages to avoid getting hit with half-chewed rice.

“I didn’t think you were that adventurous, Xiao Hao,” he says, his grin only getting wider when Minghao leans his head back with a groan. “I’m sure he doesn’t think that.”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Minghao says, draining the last of his coffee. “You should go home and bother Jihoon-hyung.”

“I will after I finish my breakfast,” Jun says, stuffing another bite of rice into one of his cheeks. Minghao sighs but when Jun leans forward he still bumps their foreheads together lightly in farewell before stalking off to the shower.

It's not shaping up to be a great morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so unlike most of my fics, this one isn't fully written already, mostly because it's probably going to be quite long and I'm impatient. So, to keep the backlog of writing I do have my plan is to update this every other week, likely on Sunday nights.
> 
> As always, you're free to hit me up on twitter @dumbkyeomie


	2. touch & figure it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can’t you just come with me?” Mingyu says. Minghao can hear the creak of his bed when he stands but he does not expect the warm press of Mingyu’s bare chest against his back, chin hooked over Minghao’s shoulder. It’s not strange— or at least it’s not strange for _Mingyu_ but Minghao is left trying to control the sudden pounding of his heart.

The invitation to watch a movie with Seokmin and Soonyoung, along with two bottles of cheap red wine is an easy way to entice Minghao out of the house, even when he was determined to stay in for the night. It helps, maybe, that Mingyu added an imploring look on top, which Minghao is finding it harder and harder to resist.

The two of them are attempting to occupy only half of the couch in Soonyoung's apartment, leaving the other half for Seokmin, Soonyoung perched comfortably in his lap and taking up little space on his own. It means that Mingyu and Minghao have to squish in close, Minghao's hip digging into the side of Mingyu's thigh in a way that can't be comfortable in the least.

Mingyu doesn't seem to be bothered by the proximity, one of his long arms stretched over the back of the couch, not quite curled around Minghao's shoulders. The four of them have had enough to drink that Seokmin is mostly asleep, his head leaning back against the couch, eyes sinking closed and Soonyoung is giggling at moments in the movie that Minghao is pretty sure aren’t jokes.

"Do you need more space?" Mingyu asks, rolling his eyes when Soonyoung shushes him for talking. Minghao draws his lips together, frowning just a little before shaking his head. 

It's easy, too easy, to just give in and lean just a little into Mingyu's side. Mingyu's arm isn't quite resting on his back, but Minghao can feel the warmth of it and the way Mingyu leans his head to the side just a little when he's focused on the screen is… distracting. Minghao's eyes get stuck tracing one of the tendons in his throat over and over again until there's a loud enough sound from the movie to pull his attention away.

The couch smells a little like Soonyoung, which makes sense, but not quite enough that it masks the slight earthy smell of Mingyu sitting next to him. Lately, Minghao has caught himself leaning in just a little too close when Mingyu talks, breathing in through his mouth to let Mingyu's scent rest in the back of his throat for a moment. It's like being a horny teenager all over again, something that Minghao thought he was long past since he figured out how to get other Alphas into bed with him.

Mingyu makes everything different, and Minghao isn't sure yet if that's a good thing or not.

Now there's precious little to actually distract him from the proximity of Mingyu sitting next to him. Mingyu's arm drifts down to actually rest on his shoulders and while Mingyu doesn't seem to notice it, Minghao certainly does. He leans back into it because apparently, he's lacking in self-control, Mingyu's fingers draped lazily over one of his shoulders. His hand is warm and Minghao shouldn't be as comfortable like this as he is.

"I don't know what's going on," he says, whispering so he doesn't get scolded by Seokmin. He has to lean in a little more to actually reach Mingyu's ear, so when Mingyu turns to look at him their faces are closer together than usual.

Mingyu grins and Minghao hopes the heat he can feel in his face doesn't mean he's actually blushing because that would be hard to explain.

"I don't either," he says, his grin getting a little wider. Minghao rolls his eyes at that, poking at Mingyu's side with one finger.

"You're supposed to explain it to me," he says, shaking his head. "I hate dubbed movies like this."

"I know," Mingyu says, giving Minghao's shoulder a little squeeze. It does nothing to help Minghao’s desire to bury his face in the side of Mingyu’s neck and ignore the rest of the movie, which is something he’s doing his best to stomp down still.

So, before he has the chance to do something stupid Minghao peels himself off of the couch and stalks off to Soonyoung’s cramped bathroom to try and breathe. He catches sight of the confused look that Mingyu shoots him but keeps going.

He swings the thin bathroom door shut with his foot, splashing cold water on his face and taking a moment to try and breathe fresh air.

It would be ideal, of course, if he didn’t _need_ a break from simply sitting next to his roommate, but things with Mingyu have been strange lately and Minghao knows that’s his fault and not Mingyu’s. Minghao shuts the faucet off with a frustrated sigh that hisses out from between his teeth. He's reluctant to dry his face with the towel that Soonyoung already has hanging up— the risk of burying his face in it only to find it just reeks of Soonyoung makes him wipe his face off on his sleeve instead.

He doesn't really feel any better, but there's nothing else he can do without making it obvious to his friends that something is wrong and he definitely isn't in the mood to try and explain. Minghao frowns, shuts his eyes for a moment and runs his fingers through his hair before opening the door and hoping that Mingyu will have found some way to not be so damn distracting.

He drops back onto the couch, muffling a laugh behind the back of his hand when he realizes Seokmin has drifted fully off to sleep, his arms still wrapped around Soonyoung, head leaning back against the couch. Mingyu’s arm drops back onto his shoulders and Minghao does his best to ignore it this time, leaning over to grab the novelty glass that Soonyoung handed him.

Mingyu glances over, tapping his finger against the vibrant green plastic, giggling when Minghao rolls his eyes and takes a sip from it.

He sets it to the side again, glancing at Soonyoung only to find that he’s gone from being rapt on the movie to snuggling his face against Seokmin’s neck, probably mostly asleep as well. Minghao hesitates, chewing the inside of his lip before he gives in and lets the side of his face rest against Mingyu’s shoulder, trying to pick up on the movie again.

**{* * *}**

Minghao is almost tempted to turn down Jun's offer of going out for the night because it feels a little too close to pity, something that Minghao doesn't want and doesn't need. Jun has been more annoying than usual lately, always grinning at Minghao like he knows something that Minghao hasn't managed to figure out. He's been cagey every time Minghao has actually tried to get an answer out of him, which is par for the course with Jun, really.

So, Minghao agrees to go out even though he's planning on avoiding Jun as much as possible. It helps that Jun apparently already has a target in mind because instead of spending an extra few minutes scent marking Minghao to keep any other Alphas from bothering him, he veers outside of Minghao's personal space over to a group of nicely dressed Omegas that Minghao isn't sure he recognizes.

As much as he would like to claim it makes no difference to him what Jun does or who he goes home with, his eyes have a habit of betraying him and following after Jun anyway. It's a product of having known him for so long and the irritating natural instinct to take care of him, in spite of the fact that Jun is older and _annoying_. Even if he doesn't particularly want to, he'll notice by the end of the night if Jun decides to go home with someone or go home by himself.

On the other hand, Minghao goes straight to find something to drink. He's not looking for someone to take home the way Jun is, but even if he were, it isn't like he can simply go chat up any Alpha that he thinks is hot. It would be an easy way to get into a fight, rather than into someone else's bed. But, over the last few years, Minghao has gotten good at biding his time at parties. He can tell when someone has been eying him for just a bit too long, with that supremely concentrated look on their face like they aren't sure if they want to fuck him or fight him.

Finding an Alpha who's open about being gay is, as far as Minghao's experience goes, pretty much impossible. He can't really blame anyone since he's not exactly _out_ himself. So, most of Minghao's hookups have been with people who are curious— using college as a chance to experiment with their sexuality. Minghao supposes he's as good a pick for that as any, he doesn't have a threatening look and as far as anyone who knows him is concerned, he's going to end up settling down and having pups with Jun someday. Frustrating as it is, the perception that he's already settled down has always worked strangely to his advantage.

It makes Alphas who want one discrete fling think he has something more to lose than he actually does. It should probably bother him more that most of the people he's slept with think he's unfaithful, but most of the time Minghao is in the position to take what he gets.

That's just as true now as it is any other night when Minghao can feel the slight prickle of someone's eyes resting on him for just a moment too long while he's mixing his third or fourth drink. It's a small thing, the instinctive pressure at the back of his neck, but Minghao focuses on the cup in his hand instead of immediately turning to find out who's looking at him. Figuring out how to flirt with the right people, and how to do it without getting into a fight, took Minghao the greater part of his high school years.

Minghao turns away from the bottles of liquor arrayed on the counter, taking a slow sip of his drink and casting one quick glance over his shoulder. He's doing his best to be subtle but apparently, he doesn't quite manage it because as soon as he recognizes the senior staring at his back, the other Alpha smiles.

The other Alpha, Wooyoung, is just a head taller than Minghao and a little broader through the shoulders. He's on one of the school's martial arts teams, though Minghao can't remember which one off the top of his head. Minghao doesn't generally like messing around with people who could kick his ass, even if he can do a perfectly fine job of handling himself in a fight. It doesn't pay to invite trouble into his life— Jun makes sure there's plenty of that without his help.

Still, he's caught Wooyoung staring and Wooyoung has caught him noticing, so the least Minghao can do is offer him a smile and the slightest raise of one of his eyebrows. Wooyoung steps away from the entrance to the room, stopping before he's actually standing within Minghao's personal space.

"Hey," he says, combing one hand back through his dark hair. Minghao nods his head, letting his drink hang from his fingers, leaning his side casually on the counter, moving closer by just a fraction. "You're in the dance company. Minghao, right?"

"Yeah, I am," Minghao says, letting his eyes dart up and down Wooyoung's body in one quick motion. It's not unusual for Alphas to size each other up, though Minghao knows they've met once or twice before this.

Unlike flirting with Omegas, which as far as Minghao can tell involves a lot of posturing and grabbing, flirting with another Alpha is all about the subtle things. It requires a touch light enough that you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking for it. 

Minghao cocks his head to the side like he's thinking much harder than he actually is, making one of the tendons in his neck stand out. It's quick, but Minghao catches the way Wooyoung's tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, the slight shift of his eyes like he's reminding himself not to look.

"You do Hapkido, don't you?" He asks after taking a slow sip of his drink. There's a hum of tension in the air that makes Minghao's stomach twist into an excited knot, the same feeling he gets right before a dance routine. Sometimes it's less like flirting and more like two predators trying to get the best of one another and Minghao is competitive by nature.

"Taekwondo," Wooyoung answers, his eyes cutting a quick path to the empty doorway and the crush of people just beyond before he takes one step closer. He's inside Minghao's personal space now, closer than anyone else would normally stand, especially in an otherwise empty room. He's just tall enough that Minghao has to look up at him, and with the sleeves of his shirt pushed up like they are Minghao also has a pretty good idea of how strong Wooyoung might be.

"I knew it was something like that," he says, his smile getting wider. He's had more than enough to drink already, enough that he's probably not being quite as subtle as he thinks he is when his eyes rest a moment too long on the bow of Wooyoung's lips, but it hasn't gotten him in trouble yet.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Minghao reaches out and hooks one finger in the loop of Wooyoung's jeans, tugging him a final step closer and tilting his head back to look up at him properly still. He can see the way Wooyoung's face colors at the action, but he doesn't growl or try to swat Minghao's hand away.

"I think there's an extra bathroom upstairs," Wooyoung says, taking a moment to clear his throat before he actually gets the words out. Minghao should take a moment to consider things, probably, but instead, he swallows the rest of his drink in two burning gulps, tells himself _fuck it_ and nods his head in agreement.

**{* * *}**

Minghao leaves the party late with Jun practically dragging him along and his mouth still nicely numb from kissing. He didn't let Wooyoung take him home even though he should have, probably, because now he's going to have a truly mortifying hickey on the side of his neck and he didn't even get laid.

Jun is being strangely unsympathetic to all this.

"I didn't realize I had to keep an eye on you now," he says, shaking his head and prodding at the throbbing bruise on the side of Minghao's throat. Minghao growls, or at least he tries. It comes out of his mouth as a rumbly whimper and he can't focus well enough to properly smack Jun's hand away.

"You _don't_ ," he says, rolling his eyes. He's still standing upright on his own, he got Wooyoung's number even though they both kept their pants on, and he didn't get himself or Jun thrown out. "I would've gotten home fine."

"Sure, champ," Jun says, wrapping one arm around Minghao's waist to guide him up the stairs to his apartment. Minghao would like to have a more eloquent argument as to why he doesn't need Jun's help, but the world around him is still a little fuzzy and navigating the stairs is taking the better part of his focus.

Past that he's just tired, far more than he expected to be. Truthfully, that's the reason he turned down Wooyoung's very tempting offer at spending the night away from home. As much as he wanted to go, it felt like part of him refused to be dragged along.

Now he's just being dragged by Jun, which is a much worse way to end his night.

"Are you going to put me to bed?" Minghao asks, pulling out of Jun's grasp once they've safely reached the second-floor landing, fishing around in his pocket for his key. It's not too hard to stand on his own and he's starting to feel a little bad for dragging Jun away from that cute choir boy he was talking to.

"Can you make it on your own?" He asks, leaning on the side of the door and watching Minghao fumble the lock open.

"Yeah. Sorry if I ruined your shot with…" Minghao pauses, waving one hand vaguely in the air.

"Joshua," Jun finishes for him, rolling his eyes. There's a smile on his face though, a wide, happy one and Minghao figures he couldn't have fucked up too much. "I got his number before you showed up."

Minghao hums, letting Jun deposit him on the couch without anymore struggling or complaining, flopping face down onto one of the leather cushions and shutting his eyes.

“Are you gonna pass out there?” Jun asks, standing at the end of the couch, one hand on his hip. 

“Maybe,” Minghao says, peeling his eyes open once again. It’s not a terrible option, the couch is comfortable and long enough that his feet are just propped up on the other arm rather than dangling awkwardly over the edge. Jun shrugs, grabbing one of the hoodies hanging up by the door and tossing it at Minghao. He disappears into the kitchen and Minghao drags the sweater closer to him, blinking his eyes slowly when he realizes it’s one of Mingyu’s and not one of his.

It isn’t the size of it that gives it away but the smell. Minghao nuzzles his nose into the soft fabric, breathing in the dark, earthy smell stuck to it. Maybe it’s because he’s drunk and still sort of horny, but he’s never noticed how nice Mingyu smells until now. He could probably bottle that and sell it as a cologne so every other dumb jock Alpha could smell half as nice as he does naturally.

He can hear Jun walk back into the room and set a glass of water next to him but Minghao isn’t willing to pull his face free of Mingyu’s sweater to say anything. Jun pauses, sighs, then ruffles the hair at the top of Minghao’s head.

“At least try to sleep in your bed,” Jun says, but it doesn’t sound like he pauses to wait for Minghao to answer. After a moment, Minghao can hear Jun’s footsteps creak across the floor, the door shutting quietly behind him, leaving Minghao alone in the relative darkness of the living room.

Some dim, distant voice in the back of his mind is struggling to remind Minghao that he doesn’t want to get caught in the morning asleep with his face mashed into Mingyu’s sweater like some kind of drunk perv, but he can’t work up the energy to make himself move either. He presses his face deeper into the soft fabric, breathing in heavy lungfuls of Mingyu, letting himself drift off like that.

**{* * *}**

“Are you really changing your shirt again?” Minghao asks, barely pulling his focus away from the phone. He regrets it immediately, catching sight of a slice of Mingyu’s bare skin before he disappears into the closet again, discarded sweater left in a little fabric puddle behind him.

“I think it’s too tight,” Mingyu says, his voice rising into a whine. “I’m not muscular enough for that.”

Minghao huffs, laying his head against Mingyu’s pillow once again with a roll of his eyes. He’d offered to help Mingyu get ready for one of the mixers he always goes to on Saturdays to try and help with some of his anxiety. There’s no reason for him to be so nervous— it’s not like he’s going on a date for the first time in his life. But Wonwoo apparently bailed at the last minute to do something or other with Soonyoung, leaving Mingyu to flounder around by himself for the past half hour.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Mingyu says for the 20th time in as many minutes. Minghao is inclined to agree with him but he doesn’t see the point in this kind of _mix and mingle_ events anyway. The music they play always sucks and everyone is on the wrong side of desperate. No amount of Mingyu saying it’s important to _’put yourself out there’_ has been able to change Minghao’s mind.

“Then don’t go,” Minghao says, more sharply than he intends. Mingyu leans out of the closet for no other purpose than to give Minghao his best kicked puppy look and apparently show off his still naked chest a little more.

“I don’t know what to do by myself,” Mingyu says, his lower lip stuck out as he talks. “And nothing looks good on me.”

Minghao, idiot that he is, can feel his resolve crumbling away bit by bit. It’s hard to say exactly when Mingyu started being so hard to say no to, but he’s starting to rival Jun in that department.

“Move,” Minghao says, finally peeling himself off of Mingyu’s bed, dropping his phone to the mattress and shooing Mingyu out of his way. He doesn’t miss the smile on Mingyu’s face before he starts rooting through the closet himself, humming under his breath as he looks through Mingyu’s clothes.

It isn’t like Mingyu needs that much help with looking good. With a quick roll of his eyes, Minghao tugs a black t-shirt and a lighter hoodie out, tossing them both in Mingyu’s direction. “Wear those with your leather jacket.”

“Isn’t that too boring?” Mingyu asks, sitting half-naked on the bed with the clothes spread over his lap. Minghao lifts one shoulder in a helpless shrug, suddenly possessed with an urge to keep digging through Mingyu’s clothes. He’ll gladly stay in the closet until Mingyu puts a fucking shirt on.

“You’ll look like you’re not trying too hard,” Minghao says, running his fingers over one of Mingyu’s turtlenecks to try and look like he’s doing something other than hiding. Hiding would be a weird response to your roommate not wearing a shirt and Minghao is doing his best not to have any of those.

“Can’t you just come with me?” Mingyu says. Minghao can hear the creak of his bed when he stands but he does not expect the warm press of Mingyu’s bare chest against his back, chin hooked over Minghao’s shoulder. It’s not strange— or at least it’s not strange for _Mingyu_ but Minghao is left trying to control the sudden pounding of his heart.

Alphas don’t usually appreciate this kind of proximity to one another. They aren’t built to cuddle and scent mark the way Omegas do and having Mingyu press up against his back _should_ activate some kind of fight or flight urge in Minghao. It doesn’t, but it does raise a laundry list of other urges that he doesn’t really want to associate with Mingyu. The next breath Minghao pulls in is instinctively shallow, trying to avoid the way Mingyu’s scent wants to wrap around him.

“Why the hell should I?” Minghao asks, a beat late, making a vain effort to try and dislodge Mingyu with an elbow to the ribs. Mingyu is stubborn, wrapping his arms around Minghao to try and trap him in place.

“Because I’m going and if you don’t come I’ll probably have a panic attack,” Mingyu says, his voice vibrating against the shell of Minghao’s ear. Try as he might, Minghao can’t quite suppress the shiver that creeps down his spine. He wiggles in Mingyu’s grasp in an effort to disguise it instead, his heart lodged in the back of his throat.

“Then don’t go,” Minghao says, his voice losing all the sharpness that it should have. Mingyu whines, finally letting go but pocking his fingers into Minghao’s sides.

“C’mon! You don’t have any plans, right?” He says, yelping when Minghao whips around and cuffs him on the side of the head. He laughs after, still standing in the doorway of the closet, effectively blocking any escape.

“My plan is not to go to any stupid hook-up parties,” Minghao says, leaning his shoulder against the wall, trying his hardest to look Mingyu in the face rather than in the chest. It’s harder than he would like it to be.

“It’s not that bad,” Mingyu says, rolling his eyes. “You might even meet someone nice.”

Minghao swallows the laugh that tries to rise up in his throat because _that_ is certainly unlikely. Mingyu is still pressed in far too close to him for it to be normal and at this point, Minghao is close to agreeing to go just to force him to get dressed.

“If you hate it I’ll never ask you again,” Mingyu says, a bright smile on his face. Minghao sighs, putting more force into it than he needs to, holding his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he says, wondering how his life came to this point. “I’ll go.”

Mingyu grins even wider and for a moment Minghao tenses, wondering if he’s going to be pulled into another hug against his will. Thankfully, Mingyu decides against it, patting Minghao’s shoulder again and turning to the clothes he left on the bed. “You’ll probably be a better wingman than Wonwoo-hyung.”

As much as Minghao immediately regrets agreeing to go along, he can’t help the little smile that climbs onto his face.

**{* * *}**

Agreeing to go with Mingyu to this mixer is probably the worst choice that Minghao has made in a while. He’s been stuck listening to an Omega tell an incredibly dull story about accounting for the last five minutes doing his best to pretend he’s paying attention.

It would be easier if his attention wasn’t constantly drawn back to Mingyu. He’s much more comfortable with these kinds of things than Minghao is— he could probably make friends with anyone. It’s harder than he’d like to tune Mingyu out, every time the annoying little bell chimes for them to find someone else to talk to Minghao’s eyes dart over to follow Mingyu through the crowd.

Given that he stands a full head taller than anyone else in the room, it’s not exactly hard. He knows exactly how much he stands out too if the slight inward slump of his shoulders is anything to go by.

Minghao slips out of the line they’ve put him in, wedging himself in next to Mingyu and patting the back of his shoulder with a little roll of his eyes.

“This is the worst,” he says, looking up at Mingyu with both eyebrows raised. “You really come here every week?”

“It’s not that bad,” Mingyu says, draping an arm over his shoulders with a laugh. “You go out and party with Jun-hyung all the time.”

“Yeah, with alcohol,” Minghao says, shaking his head. And people much Minghao is much more interested in, though he refrains from adding that.

Mingyu smiles, showing off the sharp points of his canines. “So you’re not having any fun at all?”

Minghao’s lips gather into a small scowl. He doesn’t mind spending the time with Mingyu, even if the rest of the company isn’t exactly what he’s looking for.

“It’s lame,” he says after a moment of thinking about it. Mingyu laughs, draping his arm over Minghao’s shoulders and leaning into him. Minghao can’t help but smile along, dimly aware of the Beta the both of them are ignoring giving him a cross look for monopolizing Mingyu’s attention.

Personally, Minghao couldn’t care less who he’s stealing Mingyu’s attention away from. There’s even a little bit of satisfaction that wells up in his chest, the same feeling he gets when he finally gets Jun to shut up about something.

“There are nice people here,” Mingyu says, still leaning his weight against Minghao.

“How do you not meet the same people every week?” Minghao asks, giggling in spite of himself.

“Usually you talk to other people,” the Beta says, her voice sharp. Mingyu blinks, his smile falling immediately off of his face. It makes Minghao bristle slightly without meaning to, his shoulders rising in a defensive posture.

It only lasts a moment but the Beta takes an uncertain step back, looking up at Minghao with wide, confused eyes. Minghao drops his shoulders quickly, shaking his head and taking a step back. Mingyu still has an arm around his shoulders but he’s casting confused looks between the girl and Minghao.

There’s an embarrassed flush at the back of Minghao’s neck that he’s hoping Mingyu doesn’t notice. There’s no reason for him to be acting like this, especially over Mingyu. Mingyu keeps hovering awkwardly at Minghao’s side for a moment before Minghao shakes his head and takes a step back.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” he says, fully aware that the best thing on offer is watered down fruit punch. He stalks away, not expecting the heavy thud of Mingyu’s footsteps to follow after him. His hand returns of Minghao’s shoulder, his thumb worrying small, soothing circles into it.

“I’m fine,” Minghao says before Mingyu gets a chance to ask. He fills one of the tiny plastic cups up with the disturbingly red punch before looking over at Mingyu, forcing a smile on his face. “Go mingle.”

“We don’t have to stay,” Mingyu says, his hand still rubbing Minghao’s shoulder. It’s distracting— Minghao wants to brush it away just as much as he wants Mingyu to continue.

“It’s alright, Mingyu-ya,” he says, shaking his head quickly. He doesn’t particularly want to stick around to watch other people throw themselves at Mingyu but he can’t explain the sour taste it leaves in his mouth either. “This is fun for you— go talk to people.”

Apparently, this is the wrong thing to say because instead of letting go of his shoulder and going back to talking to the now completely outraged Beta, Mingyu slings his other arm around Minghao’s shoulders, pulling so Minghao’s back is against his chest. He can feel the steady thump of Mingyu’s heart against his shoulders and he barely avoids managing to spill punch all over himself. He opens his mouth to complain but Mingyu’s chin hooks over his shoulder, huffing a little sigh out as he does.

“But I don’t wanna stay if you’re not having fun,” Mingyu says, his voice buzzing close to the shell of Minghao’s ear. Even though he can’t turn far enough to see the look on Mingyu’s face he doesn’t need to. He’s used to the kicked puppy expression that Mingyu pulls out when things aren’t going the way he hoped.

For the second time that night, Minghao is trapped in Mingyu’s too-close embrace and quickly losing the resolve to really try and escape it. Except now they aren’t in the quiet privacy of their own apartment, they’re out in public and Minghao can feel the people staring at the two of them. It makes a flush creep up into Minghao’s face, shaking his head quickly.

“It’s _fine,”_ he says, more sharply than intended. He pushes his shoulders back against Mingyu’s chest, nudging his way free of Mingyu’s clinging grasp and turning around before Mingyu can try to snare him again. There are definitely people staring, probably wondering if the two of them are about to get in a fight. One of the organizers is casting nervous looks at them both and Minghao eases a step back, putting a more normal gulf of space between them.

Mingyu purses his lips together, looking like he still wants to argue and Minghao swallows all of his punch in two quick gulps, trying to erase the scent of Mingyu’s skin from the back of his throat.

“Go back in line before they kick us out,” Minghao says, setting the cup down with a strained smile. “You don’t need to leave because of me.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, puffing his cheeks up a little. “But we can go when you wanna.”

“Sure,” Minghao says, waving him off. He waits until Mingyu is back to talking to his next conversation partner, lingering at the refreshments for an extra moment on his own. He doesn’t mean to be staring at Mingyu but it takes longer than he’d like to pull himself away and return to the line he’s supposed to be in, mumbling a less than half-hearted apology for making the Omega he’s meant to be chatting up wait.

**{* * *}**

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Mingyu and Wonwoo go to so many of those dating things?” Minghao finds himself asking days later. He and Seokmin are laying out in the small courtyard next to Seokmin’s apartment, neglected books shoved to the side.

Minghao has the sweater he was wearing spread out under him, laying on his back in just his sleeveless practice shirt, arms stretched out to the sides in an effort to soak up as much rare fall sunlight as possible. He leans his head to the side, adjusting his sunglasses so he can see Seokmin’s face a little better through the orange-tinted lenses.

“I dunno,” Seokmin says, apparently taking a moment to realize that Minghao is asking him a real question. “Do they really go to that many?”

“It’s like… twice a week, at least,” Minghao says, combing his bangs away from his forehead. His hair still feels a little dry from the last time he dyed it, the brown strands frizzy under his fingers. Seokmin lifts one shoulder in a shrug, but Minghao just takes it as a signal to keep going. “It’s just weird because Mingyu goes to all these mixers and shit but never goes on dates.”

“Are you asking me to explain why Mingyu sucks at dating?” Seokmin asks, plucking a strand of drying grass and tearing it carefully down the middle with a shake of his head. “Because I definitely don’t have the insight required for that.”

Minghao scowls a little because that’s not exactly the question that he’s asking, but he’s not sure how to phrase it better. Seokmin stretches his legs out, his head ending up pillowed on Minghao’s chest.

“God, you’re all bones,” he says, shifting like he might be able to find a slightly more comfortable part of Minghao to lay on. “Eat something once in awhile.”

“I’m lean,” Minghao responds, flicking Seokmin’s temple with a shake of his head. “It’s just because you’re used to laying all over Soonyoung-hyung.”

“Why the sudden interest in Mingyu’s love life?” Seokmin asks after deciding he doesn’t have a good comeback to that. “Were you expecting him to be having as much fun as Jun-hyung?”

“Gross,” Minghao says, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “I just didn’t realize he went out so much, I guess. Seems like he should be going on more dates, at least.”

“Maybe he really sucks at introducing himself,” Seokmin says. His wiggling stops, apparently having found a spot on Minghao’s ribs that’s actually comfortable, even if the weight of his head hardly is.

“Yeah, but it’s _Mingyu_ ,” Minghao says as if that’s sufficient to explain his whole thought process. Seokmin just raises both his eyebrows curiously, clearly not getting it. “I mean, he cooks, he’s got a car, he’s hot and he’s not a total dick.”

Minghao would consider all of these things to be objective facts about Mingyu, but before he’s even finished his list Seokmin is sitting up, his eyebrows knitted together for a moment before his eyes widen almost comically.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. “Do you wanna date Mingyu?”

The question makes Minghao choke on air and he sits up with a cough, one hand pressed to his stomach as he struggles to breathe. It would be easier to deny the question if Seokmin wasn’t one of the few people in the know. Even as he opens his mouth to answer, Minghao can feel the tips of his ears start to burn.

“Mingyu’s not into that,” he says and Seokmin immediately shakes his head.

“You have a thing for Mingyu,” he says, clapping his hands together. The flush at his ears migrates to his cheeks and this is one of the many times that Minghao thinks he could gladly strangle Seokmin, hang the consequences.

“I don’t,” he says, though the answer is made half-hearted by the fact that he’s simply not sure. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted anything from a partner than a simple one night stand. That’s all he usually expects since most of the people he sleeps with are more interested in the idea of a little discrete fooling around than an actual relationship. Moving in together with Mingyu was supposed to make Minghao's life easier. He's neat, he cooks and has a car. He doesn't get into fights and unlike Jun he doesn't kick Minghao out every weekend to have incredibly loud sex with various strangers.

But, they've been living together for less than a month and for Minghao things have been far from easy.

It isn't that Mingyu is a great burden to live with. In fact, it's the exact opposite; he's too easy to get along with, he integrates into new parts of Minghao's life like he's been there all along. He’s taken to cooking dinner for the both of them, showing up sometimes to watch Minghao’s dance practices and crack stupid jokes with Seokmin. He fits into places that Minghao didn’t even know were empty.

The realization of all this must show on Minghao’s face and it’s clearly the confirmation that Seokmin needs on the matter. He pats Minghao’s shoulder with a slight shake of his head. “You totally have a crush on Mingyu.”

“Holy fuck,” Minghao says, burying his face in his hands with a groan. This was not part of his plan for living with Mingyu, to say the least. None of this is helped by the fact that Mingyu, as far as Minghao knows, is definitely straight and looking for an Omega to settle down with.

Seokmin’s loud, excited laughter is also not helping. Minghao peels his upper lip back from his teeth in a snarl that does absolutely nothing at all to keep Seokmin from laughing at him and only ends up making him look ridiculous. Seokmin manages to swallow the rest of his laughter after a moment, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.

“I think you might be fucked,” he says, still grinning. Minghao sighs, his shoulders slumping, nodding his head a little.

“This is so stupid,” Minghao says, more to himself than to Seokmin. It’s been a long time since he’s had any romantic inclinations toward anyone, which makes it even more frustrating that his heart is choosing now as the moment to suddenly get involved.

With Kim Mingyu, of all people. Beautiful, stupid, completely _straight_ Mingyu. As if he doesn’t know better already.

Minghao squeezes his eyes shut and pitches sideways to rest his head against Seokmin’s shoulder, counting back from ten in his head before opening his eyes again. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like this is just one really shitty dream.

“I think I might be fucked too,” he says, still leaning on Seokmin’s side.


	3. call it what you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened?” He asks, rushing in to put one hand on the side of Minghao’s face, thumb resting just below where a bruise must be forming. Minghao’s heart comes to a full stop in his chest, his mouth dropping open in surprise at the way Mingyu is suddenly occupying his whole field of vision.
> 
> “I got punched in the face,” he says, once his heart kick starts once again, pounding so hard he can feel it in the back of his throat. Mingyu’s thumb strokes over the side of his cheek, following the outline of the fresh bruise but not quite pressing on it.
> 
> “Why did someone punch you in the face?” He says, leaning down closer. Minghao swallows hard, trying to ignore how close Mingyu is.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that their first dance event of the year is packed. Soonyoung puts way too much effort into advertising even the small shows they put on, no matter how much space they have for audiences to watch. It doesn’t matter that most of the people who come at the beginning of the year are only trying to get a better look at Soonyoung.

But none of that helps Chan, lurking around their makeshift backstage area and trying to chew a hole through his lip.

“Why are there so many people?” Chan asks, turning to look at Minghao with wide eyes. “I thought this was like… an open rehearsal.”

“It is,” Minghao says, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He’s done his best to avoid looking at all the people Soonyoung has managed to gather, crowding up the practice space. Minghao made good on his promise to bring Mingyu along, leaving him sitting next to Seokmin before the rest of crowd came in.

The nervous look hasn’t left Chan’s face. Minghao shakes his head, smiling just a little and pulling him away from the door.

“Stop staring,” he says, nudging Chan in the other direction, muffling a laugh when he stumbles over his own feet. “People come to sniff at Soonyoung-hyung, anyway.”

“Wait, really?” Chan asks, blinking up at him. “Isn’t Soonyoung-hyung seeing someone?”

“Yeah, Seokmin. He’s here,” Minghao says, nodding at the door. “People just ignore that part.”

“Oh,” Chan says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking like this is all news to him.

Jun looks over at the two of them with a little shake of his head, a grin on his face. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just bitter.”

“Bitter about what?” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like Soonyoung has any idea.”

Jun continues smiling, draping his arm around Chan’s shoulders, leaning in closer to him to fake a whisper in his ear. “Xiao Hao is bitter because he doesn’t have a date.”

“No, I’m _annoyed_ because our events get packed with assholes,” Minghao says, shooting a glare at the both of them. There’s been an edge to the things Jun has been saying lately and it’s more frustrating because Minghao can’t figure out where it’s coming from.

Coupled with the fact that he has to contend with whatever this _thing_ he has for Mingyu, he’s been more on edge than usual. Jun’s eyebrows lift, probably at whatever look Minghao has on his face, somewhere between curious and smug.

Minghao can feel his scowl deepen, glaring back at Jun. They have to perform the dance duet they’ve been working on in a few minutes which is going to be much harder after Minghao does his best to smack that look off of Jun’s face.

“You don’t have a date either,” Minghao bites out after a moment, even though he’s only sinking to Jun’s stupid level. Jun’s smile gets sider and even Chan giggles at that, though he’s smart enough to try to hide it behind one of his hands.

“Are you ready?” Jun asks, detaching himself from Chan with a small pat on the younger Alpha’s shoulder. “I see you brought your roommate to watch.”

“You were supposed to bring yours too,” Minghao says, swallowing the instinct to bristle at the mention of Mingyu. It’s been coming up since he realized this stupid crush on Mingyu— every time someone else so much as mentions Mingyu all his instincts go into a confused overdrive.

“He was busy,” Jun says, lifting one of his shoulders in a shrug. “Hold still.”

Jun steps closer, well inside Minghao’s personal space, reaching to adjust his collar. Minghao leans back with his lip curling up over his teeth, wrinkling his nose.

“You smell,” he grumbles. It’s hard to miss the way Chan turns quickly to look at something else, an embarrassed flush on his face at the sudden proximity. Jun gives the collar of his shirt one more tug, rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Casanova,” he says, glancing down the hall with a shake of his head, stepping back finally. “Where’s Soonyoung, anyway?”

“I dunno. Being mauled by the public,” Minghao says, brushing his hands over his shoulders like he can somehow wipe the lingering smell of Jun off. The corners of Jun’s eyes wrinkle a little when he grins and Minghao knows the look well enough already.

“Don’t do it,” he says, taking a wary step back. Jun giggles but doesn’t rush into the space on his own, turning to look at Chan instead.

“You’re not nervous are you?” He asks, leaning his head to the side. After their partnered dance, they’re doing a routine with Chan and Soonyoung.

Chan hesitates before nodding, rubbing the back of his neck. “A little bit. There are a lot more people than I thought.”

“You’ll do fine,” Jun says, a little bit of mirth still in his tone. “This is all for fun anyway.”

Soonyoung comes blustering in from the other end of the hall, his eyes ringed with dark eyeliner and a wide smile on his face, his cheeks bright pink with excitement.

“You guys ready?” He asks, slightly out of breath. Minghao nods his head, pushing his fingers back through his bangs before letting them fall into place on his forehead again.

“Yeah, we just have to put the tie on,” he says, glancing through the gap in the door. He manages, somehow, to catch sight of Mingyu in the gathered crowd, his head tilted back to laugh at something Seokmin is saying. Seokmin has a hand on Mingyu’s leg, leaning in to lean his head on Mingyu’s shoulder.

Even though he’s too far away to hear Mingyu laughing, a smile climbs onto Minghao’s face. He doesn’t really realize it until Jun’s chin comes to rest on his shoulder, following Minghao’s gaze to where the two of them are sitting.

“How cute,” Jun says, slapping the side of Minghao’s shoulder. Minghao huffs, pulling his eyes away and hoping that his face isn’t burning red.

It’s not that he’s trying to keep his crush on Mingyu a secret, at least not from Jun, but it’s embarrassing to admit.

“Alright, I’ll go get us started,” Soonyoung says, wiggling his way between them. “Go ahead and… tie yourselves up or whatever.”

Minghao would argue that point but Soonyoung slips through the door before he even opens his mouth and he’s not entirely _wrong_ anyway. He slips his half of the elastic tie over his wrist, twisting it properly into place and giving the end a little tug to make sure it won’t slide off before it’s supposed to.

“Good to go?” He asks, raising an eyebrow when he looks over at Jun. Jun nods, and once Soonyoung has finished talking to the crowd and dashes over to dramatically dim the lights the two of them slip through the door as well.

For just a second before the music starts Minghao catches Mingyu’s eye and he has the most bizarre desire to do something like wave, even if that would make him look like an idiot. He crushes the desire to the far corner of his mind before the music starts, taking a long breath to focus himself.

Both dances go off without a hitch and by the end, Minghao is ready to sprawl out on the floor and die. He ends up flopping into the small space between Mingyu and Seokmin, shoving his bangs out of his face and still struggling to catch his breath.

“Hey sweaty,” Seokmin says, leaning a little away from Minghao, his nose wrinkling. Minghao shoots him an unimpressed look, resisting the immediate urge to rub his sweaty face on Seokmin’s shoulder for revenge.

“You guys did really good,” Mingyu says after a moment, a strange gravelly tone to his voice. He seems to realize it right away, clearing his throat. There’s a little flush on his face as well and without thinking, Minghao reaches out to press the back of his hand to Mingyu’s face, eyebrows knitting together.

“Don’t get sick,” he says, grinning a little when Mingyu leans into the touch. He’s quick to pull his hand back, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s been quick to sever any physical contact with Mingyu lately, not that Mingyu seems to notice.

Seokmin does, of course. Minghao leans back on his elbows, stretching his legs out as much as he can in the limited space, trying to pretend he doesn’t feel Seokmin staring at him and Mingyu.

“I’m fine,” Mingyu says, though his cheeks are still flushed and his pupils are dark and wide. The look makes Minghao’s stomach twist though he does his best to ignore that as well. “Isn’t it hot in here, though?”

“I was just dancing for like, fifteen minutes,” Minghao says, shaking his head with a little laugh. Mingyu grins, fluffing his fingers through Minghao’s hair.

“I’m not hot,” Seokmin says, his eyes following Mingyu’s fingers as they stop petting Minghao’s hair back into place. “You okay Gyu-ya?”

“I said I’m fine,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. The smile on his face is a little unsteady and Minghao bumps his shoulder into Mingyu’s, lifting his eyebrows.

“Do you need some air?” He asks, and even though Mingyu rolls his eyes he nods his head after a little pause. Minghao shoves himself back up to his feet, turning and offering both hands to pull Mingyu up as well.

Seokmin has a barely restrained grin on his face, watching Mingyu pull himself up, holding onto both of Minghao’s hands. Minghao holds on for a beat longer than he means to, giggling when Mingyu almost topples himself over anyway. Seokmin’s eyebrows lift curiously but Minghao shrugs it off, nudging Mingyu out ahead of him.

The hallway outside is much quieter and Mingyu leans against the wall, tilting his head back and breathing in and out slowly.

For a second, Minghao gets caught staring at the line of his throat but he yanks his attention away, leaning on the wall next to him. “Feel better?”

Mingyu hums, a smile breaking out on his face. “Your dance with Jun-hyung was really good.”

“I was so scared he was gonna trip,” Minghao says, ducking his head forward with a laugh. “We messed that up a million times in rehearsals.”

“Is that why your knees were all fucked up?” Mingyu asks, giggling and pointing at one of Minghao’s legs. Minghao nods, bending his leg to pull the leg of his jeans up.

There are still a series of fading bruises on the side of his knee, courtesy of the times he tripped over the stupid band himself and hit the ground hard. Mingyu laughs, poking at the spot.

“I noticed that the other day,” Mingyu says, nodding his head. “I figured it was some kinda dance thing.”

“I haven’t been on my knees for anything else,” he says, smacking Mingyu’s hand away and fixing his jeans. “Other than Jun-ge knocking me over.”

“You guys did amazing,” Mingyu says, patting Minghao’s shoulder. “Should we go back in?”

“If you’re sure you feel okay,” Minghao says, raising both eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling.

“Yeah, I’m great,” Mingyu says, pushing off of the wall. Minghao nods, following him back into the cramped practice space to watch the rest of the dances.

**{* * *}**

“You sure you wanna be here?” Minghao says, watching Jun more than he’s paying attention to the rest of the party. For once, it was more Minghao’s idea to go out than Jun’s— a friend on the soccer team invited him to a house party and Minghao was quick to jump on the chance to do anything other than sitting at home with just him and Mingyu.

Now that he’s surrounded by people, sitting on the couch with Mingyu watching some drama sounds more tempting than before. The problem with spending all his time around Mingyu comes with a lot of other temptations that Minghao is a lot less equipped to deal with.

“It’s fine,” Jun says, looking over at him for the first time. There’s a little bit of a grin on his face. “I wanted to see someone tonight anyway.”

“Someone specific?” Minghao says, tilting his head curiously. “That’s not like you.”

“Sure it is,” Jun says, brushing his hair back from his face. He’s not quite quick enough to hide the slight flush on his face.

Minghao rolls his eyes, nudging himself off the wall and shaking his head. “Just don’t cause a bunch of trouble. Text me if I shouldn’t wait for you.”

“What are _you_ doing?” Jun asks, the corners of his lips tilting up in a smile.

The usual answer to that would be looking for a hook-up of his own but Minghao’s heart isn’t exactly in it. He frowns, lifting one shoulder in a little shrug. “I dunno.”

“Didn’t you bring me here?” Jun says, grabbing the back of Minghao’s shirt before he can slip away.

“I needed to get out,” Minghao says, brushing Jun’s hand off with a shake of his head. “Go find your hook-up already.”

“He said he’d text me when he got here,” Jun says, glancing at his phone with a little hum.

“Who are you trying to meet, anyway?” Minghao asks, raising an eyebrow curiously. Jun doesn’t typically wait around for someone else, at least not for as long as Minghao has known him.

“Joshua… he’s the choir Omega, remember?”

“Still?” Minghao says, blinking when Jun tucks his phone away again. “Weren’t you talking to him a few weeks ago too?”

“I do have other friends, Xiao Hao,” Jun says, rolling his eyes. Minghao bites back a laugh, shaking his head.

“Okay sure,” he says, patting Jun’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get a drink. Have fun with your new friend.”

This time Jun lets him go without any more arguing, leaving Minghao to get a drink and pointedly _not_ check his phone to see if he has a message from Mingyu.

It isn’t like he’s waiting on one. It’s more likely than not that Mingyu found a way to be busy on his own, probably on one of those setup dates from the stupid mixer that he dragged Minghao along to.

The thought makes the next sip of beer that Minghao takes go sour in his mouth. He scowls at the drink as if that’s what’s to blame, before turning to make his way back to where Jun is still standing.

Seeing that Jun isn’t alone isn’t a surprise to Minghao— he’s rarely by himself for more than a few minutes at any party they go to. He’s a pretty Omega and he’s good at finding his way into other people’s beds when he wants to.

But the person Jun is talking to definitely isn’t the cute choir Omega he was waiting on. Jun is by no means small, but the girl talking to him still has the advantage of a few centimeters of height and a wickedly curved smile under her bright red lipstick. She’s standing just close enough to be within Jun’s space, a hand on his shoulder, the other holding onto a bright red plastic cup.

Usually, none of this would jump out to Minghao, but if Jun was looking for a random hook-up he would have just said so, and there’s a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face. Minghao blows a quick, frustrated sigh out of his cheeks, swerving so he’s standing a few feet behind the taller Alpha girl, leaning to the side to try and catch Jun’s attention.

The girl runs one of her neatly manicured fingers over Jun’s cheek, ignorant apparently to the way he leans back from the contact. It takes him a moment to notice Minghao, his natural smile gone from his face entirely.

This is not really how Minghao wanted to spend his evening out.

With another sigh, he shoulders his way forward, tapping the girl’s shoulder with a roll of his eyes. “Hey.”

“I’m busy,” she says, barely turning to glance at Minghao. Minghao can’t help the way his lip curls into a little snarl at that, shaking his head.

“Go be _busy_ with someone else,” Minghao says, taking another step forward to wedge himself between the girl and Jun, raising both of his eyebrows. “He’s not interested.”

The girl looks like she could gladly rip Minghao’s throat out for getting in the way and not for the first time Minghao wishes when Jun offered to help teach him Korean in junior high he’d said _no_. But he’s stuck with Jun as his best friend, and so when the other Alpha growls at him, Minghao leans his head back a little and growls back.

Sometimes that’s enough to put things to rest— people don’t listen or pay attention to Jun turning them down but think better of things when Minghao gets involved. This is probably half the reason that people assume the two of them are together, coupled with the curse of being Jun’s childhood friend. But Minghao has the feeling this girl doesn’t have a lot of other Alphas challenging her because her response is to shove him hard back into the wall by his shoulders. She pulls one hand back before Minghao can grab her wrist, fist connecting with the side of Minghao’s face hard enough to make his footing uncertain for a second.

A mix of instinct and experience takes over from there when Minghao pushes the girl’s hands off and steps forward away from the wall, gritting his teeth together so hard that his jaw aches. He can hear Jun’s voice but the words don’t process of the sound of blood pounding in Minghao’s ears. His teeth snap together inches away from the girl’s face, taking another step forward in spite of the pair of hands that reach out to pull him back.

“Alright, enough of that!” Someone says, loud and close to Minghao’s ear. He’s hauled back both by Jun and another Alpha, the person who was shouting to begin with. The girl is pulled back by two of her own friends, growling at the both of them still.

Minghao shakes his shoulder free from the other Alpha holding onto him, shoving his way toward the door. Jun still has a hand on his arm and Minghao doesn’t try to shake him off, letting the door slam shut behind the both of them.

“Xiao Hao,” Jun says, his voice soft, turning Minghao around to face him. “Calm down. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Minghao says, shaking his head. Jun steps closer, fingers around Minghao’s jaw to tilt his head, prodding at where he got hit. Minghao huffs, trying to lean away from Jun’s fingers. “Jun-ge, really. I’m fine.”

“I thought you weren’t gonna get in fights this year,” Jun says, a little grin curling on his face. Minghao rolls his eyes, laughing in spite of himself.

“I think you said that not me,” Minghao says, shaking his head and batting Jun’s hands away from his face. “I think I’m gonna go home.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Jun asks, giving Minghao’s hair a ruffle before he can dodge out of the way.

“Nah, meet up with your friend,” Minghao says, waving his hand and sighing. “Try not to get anyone else punched in the face.”

“No promises,” Jun says and Minghao shakes his head, tucking his hands into his pockets and turning to make his way home.

To his surprise, Mingyu is actually stretched out on the couch, a drama Minghao doesn’t recognize playing on the television. He sits up when the door shuts behind Minghao, draping one arm over the back of the couch.

“You’re back kinda early aren’t you?” He asks. Minghao shrugs, turning toward the kitchen to find something cold to press against the sore side of his face. He doesn’t make it more than two steps past the door before Mingyu shoves himself off the couch, eyes wide and concerned.

“What happened?” He asks, rushing in to put one hand on the side of Minghao’s face, thumb resting just below where a bruise must be forming. Minghao’s heart comes to a full stop in his chest, his mouth dropping open in surprise at the way Mingyu is suddenly occupying his whole field of vision.

“I got punched in the face,” he says, once his heart kick starts once again, pounding so hard he can feel it in the back of his throat. Mingyu’s thumb strokes over the side of his cheek, following the outline of the fresh bruise but not quite pressing on it.

“Why did someone punch you in the face?” He says, leaning down closer. Minghao swallows hard, trying to ignore how close Mingyu is. “Are you okay? What did you do?”

“Someone was bugging Jun,” he says, finally leaning away from Mingyu touching him, shaking his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

Mingyu, of course, doesn’t take the hint. He leans in even closer when Minghao tries to escape, bringing his other hand up to hold onto Minghao’s face.

“You got in a fight over Jun-hyung?” Mingyu asks, his breath tickling over the side of Minghao’s cheek. At this point, the only thing Minghao can really focus on is how desperately he wants away from Mingyu, not really the details of the fight.

“Yeah,” he says, finally shaking himself free from Mingyu. “It wasn’t exactly how I wanted the night to go.”

There’s still a concerned look on Mingyu’s face, even when Minghao finally escapes into the kitchen, digging in the fridge and sighing when he finds a can of cola tucked off to the side, pressing it against his cheek with a sigh.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu says, looking like he might go back to holding onto Minghao’s face like that might somehow help that way.

“I’m fine,” Minghao says, waving his free hand at Mingyu. “It’s not like the first time I got punched in the face.”

In spite of all his worrying, Mingyu smiles. “I remember that black eye you got last year.”

“ _That_ was Soonyoung’s fault,” Minghao says, shaking his head and brushing past Mingyu to flop on the couch with a groan. Mingyu giggles, taking his spot once again, patting Minghao on the thigh.

“At least this isn’t so bad,” Mingyu says, draping his arm over the couch, almost resting it on Minghao’s shoulder. “You can show off how good you are at protecting your boyfriend.”

Minghao’s stomach flips over at the word _boyfriend_. He and Jun definitely aren’t dating, but they also don’t spend a lot of time advertising that they aren’t together. Sticking to the popular assumption benefits the both of them and letting Mingyu believe that he’s with Jun leads to a lot fewer questions for Minghao to answer.

But lying to Mingyu makes him feel worse on top of everything else, especially because he’s trying so hard to find a bright side to Minghao’s shitty evening.

Rather than say anything about it, Minghao leans back against the couch, adjusting the can against his face. “What dumb drama are you watching now?”

Mingyu giggles, gladly launching into explaining the entire plot.

**{* * *}**

It’s not that unusual for Minghao to spend a few extra hours on weeknights in the photography labs, usually editing the pictures that are supposed to make up his portfolio in the end. But on _weekends_ it isn’t exactly how Minghao likes to spend his time.

There are two reasons he’s still staring at the massive blow-up of a picture of Soonyoung in the middle of his solo dance routine. The first is that he’s the only one of his friends that even tries to stay on top of his academic work, even if that means skipping going out with Jun or watching movies with Seokmin and Soonyoung.

The second reason is Mingyu, who has spent the last two days strangely on edge, pacing around the apartment and sulking at everything that doesn’t go his way. That wouldn’t bother Minghao so much except for on top of it he’s also reeked of heavy, musky pheromones and it’s driving Minghao up a wall.

So, even if he doesn’t badly need to finish the work, Minghao is badly in need of the quiet time to himself. Editing his photography gives him something to do that isn’t dwelling on how Mingyu’s smell fills the whole apartment, even with all the windows open and Minghao locked away in his room trying to avoid it.

Still, it’s getting to be well after 10 and Minghao can’t hide in the lab forever. He closed down his work, leaning his head back and pushing his fingers through his hair with a little sigh, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment before pushing himself out of the chair.

At 10 on a Saturday, most of the campus is pretty abandoned, and Minghao’s short walk back to the apartment is quiet. There’s a little breeze in the air and he’s holding onto some hope that maybe it’ll help air the apartment out a little.

It turns out not to be the case. Minghao doesn’t make it two steps through the front door before he’s overwhelmed by the most intense scent he’s ever encountered. It stops him short in the middle of kicking his shoes off, the spicy, earthy scent resting in the back of his throat and invading his lungs. 

The scent is unmistakably Mingyu and it drives all the thoughts out of Minghao’s head. He drifts toward the closed door of Mingyu’s room with one shoe on, leaving the other discarded behind him.

“Mingyu-ya?” He says, his voice ringing in the otherwise quiet apartment.

For years, Minghao has listened to other Alphas talk about heats without really understanding— the one time he walked into Jun’s room when he was in heat it just made Minghao feel dizzy and sick. There was no primal part of his brain that told him he had to _do_ something in response other than get out of the room as fast as possible.

But this is entirely different. He’s pulled toward Mingyu’s door by a force he can’t really explain, his heart pounding a tattoo against the inside of his ribs. His whole body feels flushed, itchy, and he barely stops himself from twisting the handle of Mingyu’s door.

There’s only one clear thought left in Minghao’s head; if the apartment smells this intensely of Mingyu, after his behavior over the last week, that means he’s gone into rut. Minghao leans his forehead against the cool wood of the door, squeezing his eyes shut and sucking in another deep breath, reveling in it even though it makes him feel gross.

Standing against the door he can hear the sound of Mingyu rustling around on his bed, punctuated with what could be a groan or a growl, Minghao isn’t sure. He can definitely smell Minghao on the other side of the door, and for an Alpha in rut that’s not exactly a welcome thing.

Ruts take advantage of the two most basic instincts that Alphas are supposed to have; fuck or fight. That’s the greatest danger of having two Alphas inhabiting close quarters the way he and Mingyu are— as soon as one of them goes into rut they’re supposed to want to tear each other apart. Minghao’s response is altogether different, though he’s no less desperate to push his way through Mingyu’s door. He forces himself to step back, trying to tamp down the hot, heavy arousal that’s clouding up his head and running flush through his veins.

Even though he doesn’t want to tear Mingyu limb from limb, there’s no way he can stay in their apartment while Mingyu is like this. The scent of it alone is enough to drive him crazy, but he also doesn’t want Mingyu to come charging out looking for a fight. Reluctant as he is, Minghao stumbles his way into his own room, blindly tossing clothes into his bag, trying to take shallow breaths now.

Unsure if he’s even managed to put one full outfit together, Minghao zips the bag shut and drags himself back to the door, putting his discarded shoe back on.

Whatever Mingyu is doing in his room (Minghao doesn’t dare imagine the details, not while there’s only one flimsy piece of wood separating them), he’s gotten louder. Minghao has to swallow down the instinct to growl in response— even opening his mouth is too much for his resolve, the heady taste of all Mingyu’s pheromones still hanging around at the back of his throat.

He’s never been gladder not to run into anyone, basically jogging from his own apartment to Jun’s in an effort to put as much space between him and Mingyu as he can. Minghao can tell that the scent of Mingyu’s rut is clinging to him, his skin and his clothes, making it even harder to escape the desire that’s still trying to pull him back.

After wrestling the spare key out from his pocket, Minghao slams his way through Jun’s door, his whole body starting to tremble with the delayed rage of denying himself. It’s not a conscious emotional response so much as it is an instinctive one; the Alpha part of his brain thinks it’s entitled to _anything_ that smells as good as Mingyu does.

The door bangs shut behind him, leaving the room ringing for a second after. It’s quiet and dark, though that’s not surprising. Minghao didn’t think to tell Jun he was coming over, but it’s unlikely for Jun to even be home at this time on a weekend. He should at least have time to take a shower and get some of Mingyu’s rut smell off of him before he has to explain to Jun that he’s going to be occupying the couch for the next few days, at least.

To say nothing of the fact that he’s going to have to look Mingyu in the eyes after this, something that Minghao isn’t sure he’s ever going to be able to do again. Just getting the scent memory out of his head is probably going to take weeks.

Minghao sighs, rubbing his eyes with one hand and swinging open the door to Jun’s room to toss his bag into the corner before taking advantage of Jun’s shower.

On a normal day, Minghao probably would have noticed before he opened the door the overly sweet, sticky smell hanging in the air before he even got to Jun’s room but still surrounded by the cloud of Mingyu’s pheromones he doesn’t even have that much warning. Someone yells, loud and unfamiliar and Minghao finds himself staring at two pairs of wide eyes.

Minghao doesn’t _know_ the boy in Jun’s bed, currently, on top of him, his bare back turned toward the door. Jun sits up on his elbows, leaning his head to the side and blinking.

“Hey,” Jun says after a moment when no one else comes up with anything. The other Omega rolls to the side, gathering Jun’s sheets around him, looking between the two of them with his face turning an increasingly vibrant shade of red.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Minghao says, his voice coming out sharp. He drops his bag to the side of Jun’s door, yanking it shut behind him.

He drops his clothes into a pile in the corner of the bathroom, taking a quick sniff of his shirt and wrinkling his nose at how intense the smell clinging to it is, trying to ignore the hot twist in his stomach.

It isn’t until he’s standing under the hot spray of the shower that it really clicks in his head that he’s probably done more than just make Jun’s evening a little bit awkward. Walking in on the middle of him sleeping with another Omega, annoyed, reeking of Alpha pheromones before just slamming the door and walking out again.

At the very least he’s going to owe Jun a huge apology after this. He uses way too much of Jun’s body wash, struggling to get as much of the scent off of his skin as possible. He’s halfway through washing his hair when he hears the door swing open.

“You couldn’t call me first?” Jun asks and Minghao frowns at the wall. “You stink, by the way.”

“Mingyu’s rutting.” Minghao sighs, his shoulders slumping a little. “I was kinda in a rush.”

There’s a pause before Jun answers and Minghao can’t decide if it’s sympathy or struggling not to laugh.

“He didn’t try and kill you, at least,” Jun says finally and Minghao bends his head forward under the spray of the shower to rinse his hair out.

“I don’t think he realized he was there,” he says, shaking the water out of his eyes. “Sorry about walking in on you and…”

“Joshua,” Jun says, sighing just a little. “You scared him pretty good.”

“Sorry,” Minghao says again, peeling the shower curtain back enough to frown at Jun. “Can you leave now?”

“You staying on the couch then?” Jun says, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, making no motion to move.

“I’m definitely not sleeping in your bed,” Minghao says, wrinkling his nose. “You think Jihoon-hyung will mind?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jun says, waving his hand. He keeps lingering until Minghao glares at him, shutting the water off but keeping the curtain in place.

“I know you’re pissed but you have to move eventually,” he says, shaking his head. Jun giggles, turning and pulling the door shut, drifting off to hopefully occupy himself elsewhere.

Minghao wraps the towel around his waist with a little huff. He can’t help but think it’s going to be a long, long weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to update a few days early for Mingyu's birthday!! Was this an act of great kindness or because I forgot and didn't leave myself time to come up with another fic? That's for you to decide.


	4. whatever comes to mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey," he says, smiling when Mingyu's eyes focus on him. He must not have been paying any real attention when Minghao walks in because he blinks twice, standing up too straight, his lips parted slightly in surprise.
> 
> The response makes Minghao's stomach twist, though he does his best not to let it show.
> 
> Mingyu's tongue darts out nervously to wet his lower lip, putting a smile on his face right after. "Hey. I thought you had practice."

Some of the Alphas that Mingyu knows can predict when their ruts will hit right down to the day. Mingyu has never had that kind of foresight himself and even when all the signs are there he never seems to put together what’s going on until it’s too late to really do anything about it. It only happens once a year, but he doesn't have the clockwork biorhythm that some of the people he knows are able to enjoy.

So, with apparently no warning given, Mingyu gets home from work on Saturday to find himself sweating and half out of his mind. The signs of his rut coming only click together for him in retrospect; being antsy for the last few days, having a hard time focusing, feeling a little more territorial than normal when it comes to other Alphas… once Mingyu is laid out in bed with his face stuffed in the pillow to try and hide from his own creeping instincts, it all starts to make sense.

He's lucky that Minghao doesn't seem to be home because there's no telling exactly how he would react to having another Alpha in his space. When Mingyu squirms his way over to his phone to try and text him a warning, the light makes a splitting headache roar to the front and he ends up dropping his phone on the floor by the bed. Rather than fishing around for it, Mingyu curls up into a miserable ball, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing his bangs away from his already sweaty forehead.

Ruts have never exactly been fun, at least not for Mingyu. Unlike the seasonal heats that Omegas go through, which can mostly be alleviated with a partner or a few sex toys, there is no easy solution to being in rut. Few Omegas are willing to actually spend time with an Alpha in rut due to the risk of all the hormones driving the Alpha to go virtually feral, and taking care of the hot-blooded arousal that comes along with them just isn't possible without someone else there.

Which means Mingyu will be spending the next few days in bed with a bad temper and a boner he can do absolutely nothing about. Stripping his clothes off is a frustrating process— sitting up makes his head hurt more, and by the time he has his shirt halfway open he wants to just rip through the rest of the buttons to get it off. Even the soft cotton of his sheets feels rough against his skin but at least it's cooler than his clothes once they end up thrown off haphazardly around the room.

With a sigh, Mingyu pulls his pillow against his chest and squeezing it there with both arms, pressing his face into the soft fabric. The headache at least will probably go away in a while and he's going to eventually have to venture out of his room for both food and water. Once he can stand the sight of his phone again he should probably ask Seokmin to drop off some takeout for him to eat since the Beta is the only person Mingyu isn't likely to try and pick a fight with.

In spite of the fact that he and Minghao spend the majority of their time hanging out in the living room, Mingyu can still smell traces of the other Alpha in his own room, stuck to clothes he helped fold, infused in the sheets from Minghao occupying his bed while they study. If his mind were all in place, Mingyu would probably be surprised that it isn't making him go rage crazy, tearing apart the room to find the Alpha that's invaded his territory. Instead, he presses his face further into the pillow, chasing the familiar bright, spicy scent. It's barely there; it's been awhile since Minghao spent any real time in his room, but still, Mingyu can't help himself from grinding his hips against the base of the pillow, his flushed cock rubbing the smooth fabric.

He groans, the friction at once surprising and frustrating. His body isn't going to cooperate with any attempts to get off unless he can convince it that he's actually going to be having sex with someone else… preferably an Omega he can knot and breed. But it feels better to be doing something rather than nothing and once he's started rubbing against the pillow it's a struggle to make himself stop. He's still nuzzling into the top of the pillow, breathing in deep gulps of air in an effort to drink in the tease of Minghao's scent as much as he can.

Any other time, that alone would be plenty to make Mingyu stop what he's doing and ask himself some serious questions, but his brain isn't entirely up to doing a lot of higher level thinking at the moment. He can smell Minghao, even faintly, and the smell is _good_. Mingyu detaches one arm from the pillow, wrapping his fingers around his cock and muffling a strained whimper. It would be impossible to breathe in his scent like this and not think about Minghao, so Mingyu gives into that as well.

His whole life, Mingyu has never really wondered what it would be like to sleep with another Alpha. The concept is completely foreign, but as soon as it enters his head it seems to get stuck there. 

It's not any Alpha though, it's Minghao— one of his best friend, the person that Mingyu lives with. Which means, unfortunately, it’s far too easy to conjure up images of Minghao with his hand wrapped around his cock. They’ve only been living together a few months but in that time Mingyu’s seen plenty of Minghao wandering around shirtless while getting ready in the morning or sweaty and smelling sharply of coffee and citrus after dance practice. None of that stuck out in Mingyu’s mind before but here and now it all comes back to him too quickly.

Even if he barely spent any time appreciating Minghao’s slender chest or the toned muscles of his arms, he’s young and gifted with plenty of imagination.

But as easy as it is to get his mind on board with thinking about Minghao, his body doesn't cooperate so easily. As much as every one of his cells is screaming at him for relief he isn't doing anything more than thrusting into the tight squeeze of his own fingers and making himself even more frustrated. Mingyu pulls his hand away from his cock with a frustrated groan, tossing the pillow to the side and forcing himself to sit up. His body is just barely managing to comply with his instructions and when he finally rescues his phone from the floor he sets it to the side rather than trying to send any messages again.

Laying in bed and trying t fruitlessly jerk himself off to the mental image of his roommate isn't doing Mingyu any good, not really. In his present state, it doesn't occur to Mingyu to be embarrassed by his own nakedness, dragging himself from the safety of his room to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water to bring back to his room to keep himself from getting too dehydrated.

On his way back, one of the cold bottles pressed against his overheated forehead, Mingyu finds himself stopping next to the laundry basket he and Minghao keep outside of the bathroom. It's only half full but laying on top is one of the sleeveless shirts that Minghao wears to dance practice or while working out. There isn't a conscious order from his brain to the rest of his body to reach out and grab it but Mingyu does anyway, his fingers tight around the thin fabric, dragging it out of the basket.

Mingyu is glad that there's no one around to see the sorry state he's in— standing in the middle of the hall with Minghao's shirt pressed to his face, cock twitching on its own accord when he breathes in. He's not sure how recently Minghao actually wore the shirt, but the scent of him is still fresh and sharp. It makes Mingyu growl softly into the fabric, his lips parting to pull the scent to the back of his throat and let it rest there, filling up his lungs. There's no good way to explain why Mingyu feels the need to drag the shirt back to his room with him, nuzzling his face into it and setting both of the water bottles on his desk for later.

It seems to block out everything else but his body's burning need for release, and this time when Mingyu wraps his hand around his cock, Minghao's shirt still pressed to his nose, his whole body reacts. He jolts his hips forward into his fist, eyes squeezed tight shut.

He’s forgotten how weird it is, jerking off while sniffing at Minghao’s shirt. His head is swirling full of ideas of what it would feel like to have Minghao’s hands on him instead. His palms are bigger than Mingyu’s are, fingers long and slender. He’d probably be more patient than Mingyu is right now— teasing those pretty fingers over his shaft and grinning whenever Mingyu can’t bite back a whimper.

Mingyu’s never had any real desire to experiment with another Alpha, at least not before now, but he can imagine what it would be like. He rolls his palm over the sensitive tip of his cock, hips stuttering little thrusts that he can’t stop. He knows how it goes at least, enough to picture the hot squeeze of Minghao’s rim over his fingers, the sharp little breaths he’d let out instead of an actual sound. Some part of Mingyu’s mind is certain that Minghao wouldn’t be _shy_ but maybe too proud to want Mingyu to know how good he was feeling.

His teeth dig into the fabric of Minghao’s shirt, grip tightening as he works his hand over his cock, squeezing until it almost hurts. He could work Minghao’s body open until it’s ready to yield for him even though Minghao wasn’t built to take him the way an Omega was. It wouldn’t matter; he could still slip inside the incredible heat of Minghao’s body and get to hear Minghao whine out his name while he takes it… 

When he actually comes it's something of a shock, though it's not nearly enough to actually dispense with the burning need that's working its way through his whole body. Still, he covers his fist in streams of come, the rest of it leaking onto his stomach. His cock doesn't exactly soften, it probably won't for awhile, but Mingyu does pull his hand away when his muscles flinch at the stinging sensitivity. He wipes his messy hand on the sheets, setting Minghao's shirt to the side and inhaling quick, deep gulps of fresh air.

Later, when his brain is firing on all cylinders, he's definitely going to have to confront the fact that apparently _Minghao_ is the thing that he needs to get him through his rut. But for now, all Mingyu is really capable of doing is wiggling away from the wet spot on his sheets and curling up for an unsatisfying sleep.

**{* * *}**

It's only really been a day or two since Minghao got a message from Mingyu giving him the all-clear to come back to the apartment, but he can't shake the feeling that Mingyu is avoiding him for some reason.

They aren't a couple, of course, and it isn't as if they spend all of their time in each other's pockets, but Minghao is used to seeing his roommate at least a few times a day. But instead of studying on the couch like he usually does, Mingyu has been spending all of his time outside of class or work in the library. He hasn't even come home for dinner, claiming when Minghao texted him about it that he'd already eaten earlier in the day.

He's begged off all of Minghao's questions so far, saying he's just busy with his own school work, but Minghao can't help but feel like there's something weird going on with him. It's silly, maybe, but the stupid crush he has on Mingyu has made him hyper-aware of everything the other Alpha does and after already not seeing him for the whole three days he was holed up in rut, Minghao misses him more than expected.

Showing up at the coffee shop where Mingyu works a little bit before his shift is scheduled to end is hardly a drastic action, but Minghao still feels pathetic for doing it. There's no good reason for him to care this much about Mingyu slinking around and avoiding him except that he cares too much about everything Mingyu does. The cafe isn't busy when he walks in, which works even more to Minghao's advantage because it takes away whatever reason Mingyu might have for not speaking to him while he's here.

Mingyu is standing behind the corner, his back slumped a little like always, one elbow on the counter and his cheek resting on his palm. It makes sense that he's bored, the only customers that Minghao can see are other students attached to their laptops.

"Hey," he says, smiling when Mingyu's eyes focus on him. He must not have been paying any real attention when Minghao walks in because he blinks twice, standing up too straight, his lips parted slightly in surprise.

The response makes Minghao's stomach twist, though he does his best not to let it show.

Mingyu's tongue darts out nervously to wet his lower lip, putting a smile on his face right after. "Hey. I thought you had practice."

"Nah, not today," Minghao says, leaning his palms on the counter. He can't tell if it's his own paranoid imagination or if Mingyu really takes a step back from him. Either way, it stings, an unfamiliar twinge in the middle of Minghao's chest. "You're done soon, right?"

"Yeah," Mingyu says, hesitating just a little in his answer. "Like, 10 more minutes."

"I can hang out until you leave," Minghao says, lifting one shoulder in a little shrug like that wasn't his whole plan in coming here. Mingyu blinks twice, his smile wavering for a second before he nods.

"Okay," he says, his fingers drumming on the plastic countertop. "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure," he says, quick to agree since it'll give Mingyu something to do other than avoid actually meeting Minghao's eyes. If he weren't so determined to keep Jun out of his love life, he would already be begging him for input. He and Jun are equally terrible when it comes to relationships, even if Minghao is quick to call himself a romantic. Mingyu turns away without asking what Minghao wants, fumbling a plastic cup between his hands in his haste.

Minghao giggles before he can stop himself. He's still not sure why Mingyu is acting so weird suddenly, but Minghao is still programmed to laugh at his clumsiness. Rather than shooting him a glare, Mingyu's shoulders dip a little, looking a little more relaxed. Minghao keeps his elbow resting on the counter, watching Mingyu's profile while he works on whatever drink he's decided to give Minghao. There's a slight furrow in his brow, focused rather than frustrated, and in spite of his initial fumbling, all his motions are quick and sure.

He has the top few buttons of his shirt left open and Minghao's eyes dip from the side of his face to the bronze column of his neck without meaning to, watching the tendon of his neck when he turns his head slightly.

It would be nice if there was a way to rid himself of this stupid crush because when Mingyu puts the cap on his drink and turns, Minghao is still focused on his throat for a second. He pulls his eyes away, a nervous smile on his face when he reaches out for the drink.

"How much?" He asks, glad his voice doesn't come out sounding weird or crack in the middle. Mingyu smiles, showing off the points of his canines, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it," he says, grabbing a rag from the sink behind him to wipe down the counter. Minghao rolls his eyes, waiting until Mingyu's attention flutters away to drop a few bills in the tip jar for him before stepping away to take a seat on the other side of the counter.

He doesn't mind this— sitting and watching Mingyu work. He seems to be looking for tasks that keep him from actually having to talk but Minghao doesn't push it. It's enough that Mingyu isn't trying to get rid of him. When the bell above the door rings, Mingyu's head snaps up, the ends of his bangs falling over one of his eyes. For a fleeting second, Minghao wishes he were close enough to brush them away, to feel the silky strands of Mingyu's hair between his fingers.

The person seems to be one of Mingyu's co-workers rather than a customer because she pauses at the end of the counter to chat with him for a moment before walking into the back office. It isn't until Mingyu glances back over at him that Minghao realizes he's been staring so intensely that he didn't even think to drink any of his coffee.

"I'll be done in a minute," Mingyu says, a small smile on his face again. "I told Wonwoo-hyung I would drop by his place though."

"For what?" Minghao asks without thinking, his brows furrowing together. Mingyu's throat bobs around a quick swallow.

"He's not feeling good," he says, tugging at one of the strings of his apron. "I told him I'd stop and see if he needs anything."

The story doesn't exactly strike Minghao as the truth, but he can't think of any reason for Mingyu to lie and get rid of him, either.

Except that he's somehow figured out Minghao's crush for what it is and he's grossed out by the very concept of having another Alpha lust after him. But there's still a friendly sparkle in Mingyu's eyes and even as he keeps talking he drifts closer to Minghao. Minghao clears his throat, doing his best to shove that single paranoid thought to the back of his mind. He could offer to go along to Wonwoo's to check on him as well but Minghao can't really help but sense that Mingyu doesn't want him there if that's where he's even planning on going.

"Yeah. Okay," Minghao says, the words falling reluctantly out of his mouth. "I'll see you back at home, then."

Mingyu hums, standing just a foot or two away on the other side of the counter. He doesn't seem to realize himself how close he is, his lips parting a little when his eyes meet Minghao’s, seems to get stuck on whatever he means to say.

“You can clock out, Mingyu-ya,” the girl says, emerging from the back, tying her apron around her back. Mingyu jolts, his ears slowly turning red. He turns around so quickly he nearly knocks himself over and Minghao has to swallow the desire to laugh again. He catches himself on the counter, ducking his head to try and hide the flush on his face.

Mingyu ducks into the back himself to clock out and probably grab his bag and Minghao finds himself hesitating on if he should stay or go. He rests the straw of his drink against his lower lip, deciding after a moment to at least hang around until Mingyu is ready to go. Even if he is going to see Wonwoo instead.

It only takes a few minutes for Mingyu to come back out, the flush gone from his face now. He doesn’t look quite as surprised to see Minghao still there this time, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you heading home?” He asks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He seems more relaxed than before, his smile stretching naturally over his face. Minghao nods, leaning his head to the side.

“Aren’t you going to see Wonwoo-hyung?” Minghao asks, pursing his lips. Mingyu pauses, his lips parting around a half-formed thought.

“Right,” he says after a moment, smiling sheepishly. “I’ll see you, um, later then.”

Minghao nods, doing his best not to scowl as Mingyu beats a hasty retreat from the cafe on his own.

**{* * *}**

After the past four days of Jun's increasingly disgruntled messages about being ignored by Joshua, Minghao is seriously running out of patience. He's apologized for walking in on them as if Jun in bed with another Omega was something that he ever wanted an eyeful of, to begin with. It isn't really like Jun to get so hung up on a single hook up anyway, but every time Minghao tries to point that out, Jun gets increasingly cagey, continuing to whine instead of providing a real answer.

So when Minghao is leaving a class and happens to spot Joshua headed in the other direction, he's quicker than he might be otherwise to strike up a conversation. Normally he's more than happy to ignore his _own_ hookups when he sees them around, let alone one of Jun's, but he should at least apologize, awkward situation or not.

"Ah, Joshua-hyung," Minghao says, stopping on the sidewalk a respectful few feet away, his thumb looped through the strap of his bag to tug it closer to his back. He's doing his best to smile but he almost loses it when Joshua stops short, his eyes going wide for a second.

"I haven't been texting Junnie at all," Joshua says, holding both of his hands up in front of him like he's expecting Minghao to lunge at any moment. He shakes his head, easing an extra step back. "I didn't know he was seeing anybody— he didn't say anything about that."

Minghao sighs, his shoulders deflating. It makes sense for Joshua to be scared of him; he wasn't exactly in the best mood when he burst into Jun's room unexpectedly and he probably was carrying a cloud of Mingyu's heavy Alpha pheromones along with him. He does his best to keep smiling, though the expression is heavy on his face, shaking his head. "Jun-hyung isn't my boyfriend."

Joshua seems reluctant to believe that, his cat-like eyes narrowing slightly. "Anymore?"

"No, ever," Minghao says, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're just… we've known each other a long time. I wouldn't have come barging in if I knew he was with someone."

Slowly, Joshua lowers his hands and when Minghao steps closer to make it feel less like they're shouting at each other from 10 feet away, he doesn't try to escape.

"I'm really, uh, sorry," Minghao says, his voice softer. He does his best not to spread Jun's business all over campus even though Jun does a fine job of that on his own. "I wasn't really having a good day."

"You seemed pissed," Joshua says, a smile starting to touch the corners of his lips. "I was kinda worried you were going to kill us both."

As fair an assumption as it is, Minghao can't help but flinch a little on the inside. He doesn't usually mind being intimidating but hearing it from someone who's otherwise a stranger makes him feel worse than usual.

"Jun-hyung isn't seeing anyone," Minghao says, brushing his bangs away from his face. "So you don't have to keep ignoring him. Unless you want to, I know he's annoying."

That earns him a real, honest laugh out of Joshua and Minghao can see exactly why Jun is so stuck on this one boy. Attracted to Omegas or not, Minghao isn't blind to how pretty Joshua is.

"I'll think about it," he says. Joshua gives him an obvious look up and down, one hand resting on his own hip. "You're really not into him?"

"Not if he were the last person on the planet," Minghao says, just a touch too honestly. He doesn't add that the one time he kissed Jun is definitely the worst day of his life (though not all of it was Jun's fault). The answer seems to satisfy Joshua at least since his face brightens into an easy, charming smile.

"Thanks," he says, brushing his long bangs back from his eyes. "He said you two weren't together but it wasn't exactly easy to believe at the time."

"Most people assume we're together," Minghao says, shaking his head with a bark of laughter. "We're childhood friends, we're both Chinese, I'm an Alpha. Even my housemate calls him my boyfriend."

A little of his own bitterness must creep into his voice because Joshua's eyebrows jump curiously together. Minghao shakes his head, hoping he's not asked to explain any further.

"Anyway, call him if you want to," he says, stepping out of Joshua's path. "He's been complaining for days so I figured I'd just explain."

“Thank you,” Joshua says. It’s sincere in a way that makes Minghao feel both embarrassed and pleased with himself, standing out of the way and letting Joshua walk off with a smile on his face.

**{* * *}**

The offer to go out and get food with Seokmin should have made Minghao more suspicious off the bat. It isn’t that Seokmin never invites him to go out, but he’s only ever half the problem.

Today the problem is that he’s definitely seen fit to tell Soonyoung about Minghao’s crush on his roommate, and Soonyoung has encouraged him into thinking that the two of them should be getting involved even when it’s not at all their business.

So, when Seokmin texts him the offer to go out for lunch, Minghao should know better and say no, but he doesn’t. The two of them decided to invite Mingyu separately, so when Minghao shows up a few minutes late he’s greeted by the surprise sight of the person he lives with already on the opposite side of the table than Seokmin and Soonyoung.

Even that isn’t enough to set off the alarms in Minghao’s head. Mingyu is, after all, friends with the two of them as well. So, doing his best to ignore the tight, intimate feeling of the cafe Seokmin directed him to go to, Minghao slides into the seat next to Mingyu, wiggling his jacket off his shoulders.

Mingyu smiles, easy and tender, reaching out to help. The rough pads of his fingers skim over the bared skin of Minghao’s arms when his jacket slides away and Minghao does his absolute best not to react. Something must show on his face— in the way he looks when he glances over at Mingyu and hums out a little thank you because Seokmin and Soonyoung bend their heads closer together with a giggle that isn’t at all subtle.

Minghao jerks his arm a little further away from Mingyu, more out of instinct than an actual desire to keep Mingyu from touching them, shooting a glare across the table. From that point forward he could gladly throttle the both of them.

“I thought you had work this afternoon,” Minghao says, looking down at the neatly printed menu instead of looking at Mingyu. He can feel the prickle of the other two staring at him like they’re expecting honey to pour out of his eyes every time he so much as glances in Mingyu’s direction and he’s loathe to give them any kind of satisfaction.

“I got out early,” Mingyu says, his voice light and cheerful. Obviously, he doesn’t know enough to recognize the deceptive tricks that are being pulled on him. Minghao resents him for that innocence just a little bit. “Seokmin-ah told me you guys were getting food.”

“Wasn’t that nice of us?” Soonyoung breaks in, his face squished up into a grin. Minghao glances up and doesn’t smile back. He’ll find a way to get back at the two of them for this later.

“We didn’t want him to feel left out,” Seokmin adds, his fingers laced through Soonyoung’s. Since they’ve started dating, Seokmin and Soonyoung have turned into two halves of a very annoying whole. Even with all the cuddling and finishing each other’s sentences aside, they’ve started making every other relationship their business too. As much as Minghao wants to tell them both to butt out, there’s no way to bring it up with Mingyu sitting next to him.

Reluctant as he is to give in, Minghao smiles. “At least he can give me a ride back home.”

Mingyu giggles, tossing his arm around Minghao’s shoulder, careless of how clingy he is in public. It’s something of an odd sight between two Alphas and it’s only made worse by Mingyu being utterly, painfully straight. So far, Minghao hasn’t managed to find a way to get him to stop, not that he’s really sure that’s even what he wants.

There’s a quiet love song playing over the speakers and Mingyu is humming along to it. Minghao glances over at him, a little smile climbing onto his face before he can stop himself. Mingyu isn’t paying any attention— staring at his own menu and humming along to the melody softly enough that Minghao is probably the only person who can hear him. When the song hits the chorus, Mingyu mumbles along to the bits of it he remembers.

These cute, mundane kinds of things have been driving Minghao utterly insane for the past two weeks. Pieces of Mingyu’s routine that he only sees because they live together, the domesticity of coming home to join Mingyu in throwing something together for dinner, the way he sometimes comes home with notes to himself scribbled out on his palm that he asks Minghao to help interpret.

Across the table, Soonyoung leans in to whisper something to Seokmin, who laughs and loudly shushes him in response. It’s enough to break the trance that Minghao is under, shaking his head and looking quickly away from Mingyu with a flush creeping up the back of his neck. He bumps his knee against Mingyu’s, stopping his humming before the song ends.

“Sorry,” he says, laughing a little. “My mom likes this song.”

Sometimes, Mingyu is cute in a way that leaves Minghao unsure if he wants to kiss him on the face or run to the bathroom and throw up. According to Seokmin, that unsettled feeling in his stomach is just part of having a crush on someone, as if Minghao has never experienced it before.

Still, everything about having feelings for Mingyu feels too fresh to Minghao.

“It’s a nice song,” he says, grumbling the words out just a little. He’s not sure if Seokmin and Soonyoung hear him, but Mingyu beams.

They order food and Minghao does his best to ignore the way the two across the table keep stealing glances at him and Mingyu like they might start making out at any second. It seems like neither of them has realized just how useless having a crush on Mingyu really is.

Minghao knows better than to make that mistake a second time.

Mingyu immediately decides to help himself to some of Minghao’s fries and Minghao can’t even be bothered to snap at him for it. He rolls his eyes, picking up a small bunch of them and setting them on the corner of Mingyu’s plate instead, glaring at him the whole time. The corners of Mingyu’s eyes crinkle when he grins, reaching over Minghao’s arm to steal another stray fry from his plate.

“They taste better this way,” he says, giggling when Minghao growls at him.

“You should’ve ordered your own,” he says, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. He’s gotten used to Mingyu picking at his food anyway, though among Alphas stealing off of each other’s plates is sometimes enough to spark a fight on its own. He can feel the annoying prickle of Seokmin openly staring at him now and when he looks up to glare at him in the hope he’ll stop, Seokmin reaches a hand out like he’s planning on stealing some of Minghao’s food as well.

Minghao growls at him for it, low and deep in his chest. Seokmin hesitates, his eyes going round and surprised, pulling his hand back like he’s scared that Minghao might really snap at him. He won’t— even though Seokmin has found a way to get on his last nerve, he’s also a Beta and the gentlest, most harmless person that Minghao knows. Mingyu giggles at Seokmin’s face, sticking another fry in his mouth with a smug smile.

“I can’t believe you’ll share with him and not me,” Seokmin pouts, opening his mouth up when Soonyoung offers one of his own fries. He eats it directly from Soonyoung’s fingers rather than grabbing it and Minghao has to do his best not to make a face.

“I’m his favorite,” Mingyu says, tossing his arm around Minghao’s shoulders.

“No, you’re not,” Minghao says, though he’s not exactly in a hurry to escape the weight of Mingyu’s arm. Soonyoung giggles as well, not even bothering to try and hide it, reminding Minghao that he really doesn’t have any friends he can actually rely on. Seokmin and Soonyoung can’t be cured of their need to meddle and the only person with even less experience when it comes to romance than Minghao is Jun.

Mingyu laughs, pulling Minghao in closer and rubbing his cheek against Minghao’s shoulder, no doubt scent marking his shirt. “Admit it. I’m your favorite.”

Minghao groans, trying to pull away, shoving at Mingyu’s side in an effort to dislodge him. Mingyu finally lets go, apparently deciding to actually eat his food instead of just bothering Minghao for attention.


	5. old roots, new trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the answer to Mingyu’s question; the one he’s not sure how to put into words and ask himself is starting to become too clear to ignore.
> 
> Whatever the confused flutter of emotion he feels in his chest when Minghao smiles at him is, it’s not something that Mingyu’s ever felt for another Alpha before.

Due to a change in his usual work schedule, Mingyu suddenly has his usually occupied Sunday afternoons free. This would be a nice thing since that's the biggest block of time during the week that Minghao also has free; he doesn't have to practice dance and he does his best to finish his work for the week before it rolls around.

This would be a nice thing if Mingyu hadn't determined that they should spend the lion's share of that new time _together_. He picks out a romance drama that he claims they absolutely have to watch, and always, Minghao is powerless to tell him no when he breaks out the pouting puppy dog expression.

So, for the third Sunday in a row, they're sprawled out on the couch with their attention focused on the television and a dismal number of chip crumbs strewn over their clothes. Mingyu has decided that he can't see well enough when he sits up, something about the glare of the overhead light on the screen, and instead he's laying on his side, his head leaning against Minghao's thigh.

Minghao hasn't said anything to protest the heavy weight of Mingyu's head resting on him or the way Mingyu shifts every once in awhile to brush his bangs away from his eyes, but he can't help the tension in his thigh either. This has been the way everything involving Mingyu seems to go lately; Minghao is powerless to turn him down in anything, he has a better hold on Minghao's time than even Jun, but whenever they're alone he feels pinned.

It's doubtful that Mingyu himself has noticed anything strange. All their physical contact starts on his end since Minghao isn't nearly as overly touchy as his roommate. But that still doesn't help the fact that Minghao is currently frozen in place, one hand gripping vice-tight to the arm of the couch, the other draped along the back of it in an effort to seem much more casual than he feels.

Mingyu wiggles once again, stretching his long legs off the edge of the couch, running his fingers back through his hair once again. Minghao struggles to keep his attention focused on the drama since Mingyu actually managed to pick a decent one, and not the desire to comb his fingers through Mingyu's thick hair. He doesn't really care about helping it lay flat so much as he wants to feel the silky texture of it between his fingers. Mingyu pulls in a deep breath, his chest expanding, before sighing out slowly, his cheek nuzzling into Minghao's thigh.

Minghao tenses further without meaning to and Mingyu must feel the zip of it through his muscles because he lifts his head, leaning on one arm to sit up and look at Minghao.

"You okay?" He asks, a little sleepy slowness in his voice. Minghao licks his lips quickly, his eyes boring into the screen of the television until they start to burn. He nods.

"Pay attention," he says, his voice dropping into a hiss like he's trying to shush Mingyu. Mingyu laughs, laying his head on Minghao's thigh once again, his shoulders shaking with his amusement.

"You always get so into it," he says, still chuckling a little. Minghao rolls his eyes, though under the circumstances it's hard to argue. He can't tell Mingyu, obviously, that he's paid more attention to the way the light has been drifting over the exposed side of his face than anything that's happened in the last two episodes they've had on.

Crushes are something still foreign to Minghao; the last time he had one it cured him of ever wanting another. The easiest thing for him to remember is that he just can't act on it, no matter how much he wants to. Mingyu leans his head back, poking at Minghao's exposed side at the same time to get his attention. When Minghao finally gives in and glances down at him, Mingyu stretches his jaws open wide, a hint of a smile still shown by his open mouth.

Minghao could gladly scream and storm out of the room just to avoid _that_ image. Instead, he carefully puts a chip in Mingyu's mouth, since that's what he's asking for.

From any angle, it's ridiculous. He's been reduced to feeding another Alpha just because Mingyu is too lazy to sit up and worse than that, he's happy to do it. It makes some stupid, primal part of his brain happy, thinking that he's somehow providing for Mingyu even though he's just helping him shovel processed junk into his mouth so he can complain later that he has a stomach ache or that he's bloated from eating too much salt.

Mingyu makes a happy sound anyway, chewing on the food and grinning up at Minghao.

"Want another?" Minghao asks after he swallows, lifting one of his eyebrows and shaking the half-empty bag. Mingyu seems to think it over for a moment before nodding his head and simply opening his mouth again.

This time, after he stuffs more food in Mingyu’s mouth for him, he shoves the bag against Mingyu’s chest with a shake of his head. “Feed yourself, at least.”

“You offered,” Mingyu says, giggling rather than actually whining. Minghao scowls but doesn’t try to argue since Mingyu is right about that part, at least.

It strikes Minghao sometimes how odd his relationship with Mingyu has really become since they moved in together. They spend more time together than apart; Minghao helps Mingyu cook, they study together, Mingyu and Seokmin come to watch dance practices whenever they don’t have class at the same time, and now they spend Sundays on the couch watching dramas together. 

In the span of a few months, they’ve transformed into an old married couple.

The biggest exception to all of their domesticity is Mingyu still goes to mixers and sometimes out on dates with the people he meets, and Minghao still goes out to parties on the weekends. He hasn’t actually gone home with anyone since he and Mingyu moved in together but now that Jun is apparently totally absorbed in Joshua, most of the time he goes without having someone to keep track of him.

He would be annoyed if he weren’t so pleased to see Jun doing something more than flitting from person to person. Joshua, from what little Minghao has seen of him since the last time they talked, seems sweet and funny and Jun is moony over him in a way that Minghao can’t remember ever seeing from him before. It makes Minghao happy, as much as he doesn’t want to admit to his own secretly romantic heart.

Mingyu coos at something that happens on the screen and Minghao realizes a moment late that his attention has wandered off the TV for long enough that he’s not sure what’s happening. Mingyu glances up at him for a reaction, then flushes and laughs when Minghao raises his eyebrows.

“It’s really cute when someone gets their head pet like that,” he says, his own head still lolling back over Minghao’s thigh. “No one’s ever done that to me.”

“Because you’re a giant,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. “What do you need your heat patted for?”

Rather than argue with him, Mingyu puffs his cheeks out in a pout, staring up at Minghao with the kicked puppy look that he has mastered. Minghao should just roll his eyes and go back to watching the show— Mingyu never holds onto stupid requests like this for long, but it’s pathetically hard for Minghao to deny him even small things like this. So, with a token roll of his eyes, Minghao drops his arm from the back of the couch to pat the top of Mingyu’s head weakly.

Mingyu’s face brightens instantly into a smile, even when he reaches to gently grasp Minghao’s wrist.

“You’re supposed to do it like this,” he says, guiding Minghao’s hand in petting through his hair much more slowly. Minghao swallows hard, his throat strangely dry, keeping up the motion even after Mingyu lets go of his arm. Mingyu hums, his eyes curving up into contented crescents when Minghao continues with stroking him.

After a moment that stretches out far too long, Minghao pulls his hand back and returns his hand to the back of the couch, shaking his head.

“There, now you don’t have to complain,” he says, though there’s no heat behind his words. Mingyu giggles again, his nose wrinkling when he smiles.

“Thanks,” he says, peeking up at Minghao once again. “It does feel nice.”

Minghao hums and continues staring at the screen, hoping his face isn’t as warm as it feels.

**{* * *}**

Normally, Mingyu isn’t the type to go out to parties like Minghao and Jun are, and getting him to go along isn’t an easy task. But he owes Minghao for dragging him off to that stupid mixer and since Jun has once again decided to stay home with Joshua, Minghao pressed until he agreed to come.

It helps that Seokmin also agreed to come along, leaving Soonyoung behind to get into who knows what on his own. The three of them are seated in a circle on the thinly carpeted floor of the basement with a handful of other people that Minghao mostly only knows in passing playing a game of never have I ever.

Predictably, the more all of them drink, the more the questions turn toward the inappropriate. Minghao isn’t bothered— he’s been to enough parties to know how to keep his cards close to the chest. Thankfully, Seokmin decided to sit between him and Mingyu, which makes it easier for Minghao to focus even at the point that he probably has more liquor than blood running through his veins. It’s impossible to completely avoid breathing in the earthy scent that rolls of Mingyu in increasingly thick waves the more he has to drink, but at least sitting with Seokmin in between them means there’s some kind of barrier.

Intentional or not, it’s helping Minghao stay at least a little bit sane. Aside from Seokmin, there are two other Betas, three Omegas and one Alpha that Minghao doesn’t know. He’s sitting directly across from Minghao, which means it’s hard not to notice that he’s good looking himself, though he doesn’t tug at the corner of Minghao’s attention the way Mingyu does. Outside of the initial moment of sizing the two of them up as potential threats, it doesn’t seem like the other Alpha is paying much attention to either of them.

Seokmin and Mingyu are toppling over each other, laughing at a story about almost getting cat-fished on a date and narrowly missing that embarrassment by getting mugged instead. Minghao giggles, his smile tugging a little higher when the two of them manage to sit up, still leaning together in a pile of limbs. It’s nice, always, to do things with the two of them. He’s determined not to let his stupid, swollen heart mess that up. When he’s finally stopped laughing, it’s Seokmin’s turn to come up with a question once again, pressing the cool glass of his bottle against his flushed cheek while he thinks.

“Never have I ever hooked up with a stranger,” Seokmin says, his voice faltering just a little at the end. He looks like he’s ready to take the question back and ask a new one, something he’s done twice already. Minghao rolls his eyes, taking a long swig of his drink before Seokmin gets the chance, smacking the side of Seokmin’s thigh.

“You’ve never hooked up with anyone but Soonyoung-hyung,” Minghao says, drawing another peal of laughter out of Mingyu. One thing that Mingyu doesn’t lack, despite the fact that he doesn’t go out often, is a tolerance for alcohol. Seokmin’s ears flush pink, ducking his head.

“I’ve dated other people,” he says, more whining than defending himself. Mingyu giggles, one of his big hands resting on the back of Seokmin’s neck.

“Sure you have, buddy,” he says, looking over at Minghao with an amused twinkle in his eyes. Minghao’s stomach rolls uncertainly and he hesitates before he smiles in return.

“Your turn,” he says, nodding at Mingyu, hoping to cover up for his own twisted feelings as Seokmin continues sulking between them.

Both of Mingyu’s cheeks are starting to turn pink and Minghao wants to press his palms to them and feel the warmth of Mingyu’s golden skin against his.

“Um,” Mingyu says, looking around the room, casting about for a question. “Never have I ever been handcuffed.”

One of the other Betas, a girl, giggles and tucks her long hair behind her ear. “By the cops or for sex?”

Mingyu giggles, his voice reedy and nervous. “Either one.”

She smirks at him for a second before she downs some of her drink and Minghao does his best not to respond to that. It’s none of his business who’s flirting with Mingyu.

Luckily, he’s distracted by Seokmin, his face cherry red, taking a slow sip of his own drink.

“Ya!” Minghao says, shaking him as soon as he sets the bottle down. “You’ve never been arrested, Seokmin-ah.”

“I haven’t,” Seokmin says, his voice a low grumble, not looking at either Minghao or Mingyu.

Mingyu gasps in fake surprise, grabbing Seokmin’s other shoulder. “What is Soonyoung-hyung doing to our innocent boy?”

Seokmin laughs, even though his face stays a vibrant shade of red and he’s doing his best to hide behind his legs, shaking both of their hands off his shoulders. Minghao gives in and laughs as well, wrapping his arms around Seokmin and leaning his head on the edge of Seokmin’s shoulder for support.

After the two of them recover they continue around the circle. _Never have I ever eaten a whole pizza by myself._ Mingyu and Seokmin drink. _Never have I ever cried in public._ Mingyu and Seokmin drink. _Never have I ever stolen money from my parents._ Only one the Alpha Minghao doesn’t know drinks at that, followed by a shared mutter of disapproval from the rest of them.

The pretty Beta who’s still mostly just watching Mingyu brushes her hair back from her shoulder, smiling over the rim of her cup.

“Never have I ever thought about sleeping with someone the same gender,” she says, giggling a little at the scandal of her own question. There’s a hesitation and Minghao’s fingers squeeze tighter around the bottle in his hand, doing his best not to betray his own nerves.

After a moment, Seokmin drinks, then one of the Omegas, then the male Beta. Seokmin doesn’t glance at Minghao like he’s wondering if Minghao is going to drink as well. No one volunteers a funny story, and Minghao assumes they’re done with the question.

Before the next one gets asked, Mingyu presses his bottle nervously against his lower lip before taking a quick, silent drink himself, staring dead ahead without making eye contact with anyone.

Minghao would like for the ground to swallow him up on the spot. The other Alpha is making a face like he’s affronted by the very concept and Mingyu sinks into himself like he’s embarrassed to have admitted it at all. Minghao’s tongue feels like it’s fused in place in his mouth and he has to repeat his own question twice because it comes out not making any sense the first time.

The game starts to blur past him and Minghao can’t keep track of what questions he drinks for and which ones he ignores. His brain is stuck whirling around the fact that Mingyu has even _considered_ hooking up with another Alpha. He didn’t offer any details— it could have been a few stray thoughts a decade ago, but that doesn’t stop Minghao’s heart from pounding a tattoo against the inside of his chest. It’s a stupid thing to hang his hopes on; a few stray fantasies doesn’t make Mingyu any less straight.

Mingyu won’t meet his eyes, mostly paying attention to his own drink and sharing a few more laughs when everyone else laughs at something. Seokmin seems aware of the tension zipping up Minghao’s spine because after they go around another time he taps Minghao’s shoulder before dragging them both up to their feet. When Mingyu looks up, bewildered, Seokmin smiles.

“Refills,” he says, shaking his own emptied bottle, stumbling as he drags Minghao along like dead weight.

Neither of them says anything until they’re standing outside in the cold October air. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, his hand lingering on Minghao’s arm. Minghao nods, but his head doesn’t feel quite attached to his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Minghao says after a moment, shaking his head to try and rid himself of all the sudden thoughts of Mingyu. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Seokmin nods, though his lips are pressed together in a line like he’s not sure if he actually believes Minghao. Minghao swallows hard, doesn’t try to fool Seokmin with a smile but pats him on the shoulder instead.

“Go on back,” he says, shaking his head. “I need some air.”

For a moment, Seokmin hesitates, probably debating if Minghao should be left by himself but he shrugs it off and gives Minghao’s shoulder a pat in return before turning to go back inside.

“Text me if you’re still freaking out,” he says, his eyes curving up a little as he smiles. Minghao laughs a little, nodding his head and huddling closer to the edge of the porch, trying to stay out of the brunt of the cold wind. He stays outside until he’s too cold to continue, hands tucked under his arms, turning Mingyu’s silent admission over and over in his head.

**{* * *}**

The rest of the night, after he slinks back inside and finds himself another drink, passes Minghao by in a blur. He doesn’t remember at what point Seokmin finally decides to go home, or how much he drinks after the game, or even when Mingyu comes to find him again.

He’s not really aware of anything until he’s stumbling over the sidewalk with Mingyu’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him close in an effort to guide his footsteps safely. Mingyu smells warm and musky and without thinking, Minghao turns his head to press his face against Mingyu’s chest, giggling while he walks. His head moves slower than he expects, his feet floating over the ground.

The whole of his body feels like liquid, only constrained by the parts of him that Mingyu is touching.

“You’re _drunk_ ,” Mingyu says, rubbing his hand over Minghao’s side, fingers tight to keep him from slipping away. Minghao appreciates it— he’s likely to float away as soon as Mingyu lets go of him.

“I am,” Minghao says since there’s no use denying it. With his face pressed into Mingyu still, his voice comes out muffled. “You smell so good.”

Mingyu almost trips over the sidewalk on his next step, threatening to take Minghao with him. Usually, Minghao would complain about his clumsiness, but instead, he digs his fingers into the soft fabric of Mingyu’s shirt and holds onto him more tightly, giggling when Mingyu rights himself.

“You’re drunk too,” Minghao says, lifting his head to peer up at Mingyu with a grin stretched across his face. Mingyu frowns, even though there’s a telltale flush on his face and glaze over his eyes, shaking his head.

“Not like you are,” he says, starting them forward again.

“Then you’re missing out,” Minghao says, his words tilting toward Mandarin in the middle. Mingyu blinks, trying to understand the mixed languages before shaking his head with a look on his face that Minghao’s inebriated brain decides counts as fondness.

Navigating the two of them up the stairs proves to be a challenge, and Minghao will definitely have a nasty bruise on one of his knees in the morning from slamming it on the edge of a stair. He stumbles free of Mingyu’s steadying arm when the door opens, catching himself on the back of the couch and wrestling with the rising wave of nausea that threatens him.

Behind him, Mingyu giggles, laying one warm hand on the small of his back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, when he’s sure he’s got control over his stomach. He stands straight, still leaning one hand on the couch, looking up at Mingyu with a smile.

The next thing that rises up in his chest isn’t nausea from drinking but the urge to lean up on his toes and kiss Mingyu full on his mouth. Though his own hazy thoughts, Minghao struggles to remember the last time he wanted anybody this much, then abruptly stops himself.

Even drunk, some things are better left out of mind.

“I’m going to bed,” Mingyu says, swaying on his feet for a moment, his jaws stretching out in a yawn. Dumbly, Minghao nods his head, stumbling over to flop on the couch.

“Good night,” he says, draping his arm over his face. Mingyu stands above him, giggling.

“Are you gonna sleep out here?” He asks and Minghao waves his hand a little, grunting out a sound that’s not quite an agreement. Mingyu laughs again. “Okay. Good night, Hao.”

Minghao hums, listening to Mingyu flip off the light and shuffle off to his own room. Minghao lays still, his eyes shut, waiting for the curtain of sleep to close over him.

It doesn’t happen. He stays like that for what must be an hour, waiting for his body and mind to shut down, only to find that he can’t just will himself off to sleep. He wiggles around, trying as best he can to find a more comfortable spot on the couch, only to fail at that as well.

With a heavy sigh, Minghao heaves himself upright, rolling to his feet and feeling his way along the couch so he doesn’t trip over anything in the dark. Without thinking, he lets himself into the first door he comes across, kicking it shut behind him and stumbling his way through the dark room.

It isn’t until he falls into bed and hears the soft cadence of Mingyu breathing he realizes that he’s in the wrong room. He’s got no energy left to move again, and instead, he wiggles his way under Mingyu’s blankets and wedges himself in close to the broad warmth of Mingyu’s body.

Mingyu shifts, and for a moment Minghao dimly wonders if he’s going to wake up and scold Minghao to sleep in his own bed. He doesn’t— instead, one of his heavy arms comes to drape over Minghao’s stomach, pulling them closer together so they’re lined up back to chest. His face presses to the nape of Minghao’s neck, and for one dizzy moment, Minghao thinks he might feel the slightest brush of Mingyu’s lips against his neck.

Minghao melts into the bed and into Mingyu’s loose embrace, sliding into the dark of sleep.

**{* * *}**

As fuzzy as his memory of the night before is, Mingyu is fully expecting to wake up in his bed without a person tucked under his arm, breathing slow and steady with sleep.

It takes a few minutes for his blurry mind to realize that the person he has flush against his chest is Minghao, of all people, his face relaxed and his lips parted as he continues to slumber. It’s late in the morning, slants of sunlight already coming through Mingyu’s window and creeping across the bed and Mingyu carefully lays his head back on the pillow, trying not to wake his unexpected guest, wondering exactly how this happened. 

Neither of them was in a sober state when they got home but Mingyu can recall Minghao throwing himself on the couch and declaring that he was going to sleep there after Mingyu herded him home. Even if he decided that the couch wasn’t comfortable enough for the whole night, there’s nothing to prevent him from going and sleeping in his own bed just down the hall.

Yet, here they are, Mingyu spooned unconsciously against Minghao’s back. Minghao has an arm laying on top of the one Mingyu is holding onto him with, like sometime in the night Mingyu tried to pull away and Minghao was determined to make him stay there.

The thought makes a flush creep into Mingyu’s face and he has to close his eyes and try to banish it. His head aches dimly with the leftovers of loud music and alcohol, making it hard to clear his mind. Conventionally, there’s no reason he should be so comfortable with another Alpha sleeping in his bed, his _territory_ that it doesn’t even wake him, drunk or not. It’s more than just waking up with Minghao tucked against his chest— Mingyu can understand stumbling drunk into the wrong bed, their rooms are right next to each other, after all. He shouldn’t be drawn to wrap Minghao in his arms, to breathe in the spicy, citrus scent that clings to his skin.

Now that he’s awake he shouldn’t want to press his mouth to the bared nape of Minghao’s neck, exposed in an unconscious gesture of trust.

Mingyu opens his eyes slowly to find that Minghao still hasn’t moved. In all his courting and dating in the past, Mingyu has always done his best to be a proper gentleman. But for all of the firm lessons from his parents on how to conduct himself well, Mingyu doesn’t have a roadmap for how to handle this. He contemplates waking Minghao up; it seems odd to stay like this now that he’s awake and aware that they shouldn’t be tangled together like this, but some distant part of him is afraid of what might happen if he does. He could slide himself out of bed, careful not to wake the other Alpha up, but that sits in his chest wrong too. He doesn’t want to make it seem like Minghao has done something wrong, either, and waking up by himself in Mingyu’s bed would probably be jarring.

The truth of the matter is that Mingyu doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to let go. The idea of dozing off with his chin resting on Minghao’s shoulder like he was never the wiser is too tempting to push out of his mind. He shifts, leaning his forehead against the bared skin of Minghao’s neck for just a moment.

It sends the strangest thrill through him, and Mingyu remembers that he still has one of Minghao’s shirts tucked under his pillow, still not returned from when he stole it from their laundry. The thought makes a flush creep up his face. It hasn’t lost the heavy scent of Minghao’s pheromones and Mingyu has pulled it out once or twice just to debate exactly what he should do with it.

Just like now, he never really decided on an answer and continued just sticking the little ball of fabric out of sight, where it couldn’t keep bothering him. But the answer to Mingyu’s question; the one he’s not sure how to put into words and ask himself is starting to become too clear to ignore.

Whatever the confused flutter of emotion he feels in his chest when Minghao smiles at him is, it’s not something that Mingyu’s ever felt for another Alpha before.

**{* * *}**

Lee Seokmin is not the person Mingyu usually turns to with his problems. It isn’t because Seokmin gives bad advice (though he does) or because Mingyu doesn’t trust him with a secret (though anything you say to him goes directly to Soonyoung). But usually, Mingyu’s problems don’t feel like they could only be answered with Seokmin’s help.

This time, however, Mingyu can’t think of anyone else to turn to. Minghao is out of the question for obvious reasons, and while Wonwoo is his best friend, explaining that he might possibly have a gay crush on his roommate to someone he’s known since he was 10-years-old is way too daunting for Mingyu to wrap his mind around.

So, a few days later, when Mingyu catches sight of Seokmin leaving one of his classes without Soonyoung on his arm, he makes up his mind then and there that Seokmin is the person to talk to. He has to jog a few feet to catch up, and he almost knocks someone over with his bag bouncing against his hip, but he skids to a safe stop next to Seokmin with a breathless, nervous giggle.

“Hey,” he says, combing his fingers through his hair, trying to look casual. He doesn’t exactly feel that way but there’s no reason for Seokmin to notice the hummingbird quick beating of his heart.

Seokmin turns with a laugh, looking up at Mingyu. “Hey. Are you getting lunch?”

Mingyu’s stomach has felt too twisted up for the last few days to do anything more than pick at food but he nods anyway. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” Seokmin says, and when he starts walking in the same direction once again, Mingyu follows after him, trying to think of any possible way to explain what’s on his mind.

He waits until they’ve both got their food and they’re sitting at a table in one of the far corners of the dining hall, in a table that catches some of the October sunlight, looking at his rice and licking his lips nervously.

If Seokmin notices that there’s something on his mind, he doesn’t push for answers, focused instead on his food while Mingyu sorts through his thoughts.

“You know,” Mingyu starts, his voice squeaking a little with nerves. He stops, clears his throat hard and does his best to smile when Seokmin looks up with a laugh. “You know that game we were playing the other night?”

“The drinking game?” Seokmin asks, raising his eyebrow. When Mingyu nods in confirmation, Seokmin hums. “I remember most of it, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, licking his lips again. What is he supposed to do? He’s fairly certain that if he were just to come out and tell Seokmin that the person he was thinking of was Minghao, Seokmin wouldn’t freak out or refuse to keep it a secret, but he’s still hesitant to say.

Seokmin still has his eyebrows knitted together, waiting for whatever Mingyu is trying to say.

“I was just thinking about it,” Mingyu says, scowling down at his tray. “The, um, the question about sleeping with someone your gender.”

He can remember it more vividly than he should for how much he had to drink; hesitating to answer at all but feeling strange for lying about it. He can remember the other Alpha glaring at him after like Mingyu had offended him somehow by telling the truth.

He can remember that Minghao didn’t drink; didn’t even look at him after.

All the words trying to march across his tongue shrivel up and die on the spot. He must make some sort of face because Seokmin is suddenly in a rush to reassure him.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” he says, giving his head a quick shake and laughing. “I mean, Minghao didn’t really say anything after but he seemed like he was still having fun when I left.”

Mingyu blinks twice, his mind rushing to try and catch up to what Seokmin is saying. “Minghao?”

Seokmin turns back to his food, shrugging his shoulders. “You know how he gets— he’s so uptight about his feelings. I’m amazed he’s told me anything about his crush at all.”

It’s only then that Seokmin jolts, looking up at Mingyu with both of his eyes gone wide and round, shaking his head so rapidly back and forth that Mingyu is worried he’s going to give himself whiplash.

“Just… ignore that,” Seokmin says, holding both hands up in front of him. “I wasn’t thinking! Pretend I didn’t say any of that.”

“You mean Jun-hyung?” Mingyu says, his brows jumping together in conclusion. He can’t figure out, for the life of him, what one has to do with the other but he also can’t think of anyone else that Minghao could possibly have a crush on.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything, the color draining out of his face slowly.

“Ya! You can’t say all that and not answer me!” Mingyu says, frowning now. “Are you talking about Minghao and Jun-hyung or not?”

“I’m not talking about anything,” Seokmin says, burying his face in his hands. “I’m too young to have Minghao kill me and dump my body in the river.”

Mingyu groans, sinking back in his chair and letting his arms hang limply at his sides. Leave it to Seokmin, of course, to only make things more confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really early update because I'm a senior in college and my finals week starts on Monday!! So, to avoid forgetting about this fic while academia kicks my ass I decided to just post the chapter now.


	6. only natural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least most of the signs of his crush on Minghao have been easy to hide up until this point; he can explain away the staring, the getting flustered by random things that Minghao does, clinging to him at any chance he gets.
> 
> It’s much, much more difficult to try and come up with an excuse for why wrestling around on the floor with Minghao suddenly gives him a boner.
> 
> Mingyu shoves his fingers back through his hair, bumping his head back against the door several times with his eyes shut.
> 
> He’s way more screwed than he thought.

It's been a few days since Seokmin inadvertently crushed any hopes Mingyu had in his heart about Minghao, as faint as they might have been. He's been doing his best not to dwell too hard on the matter. He's always been the type to let his heart get involved in matters it shouldn't and the little sting of rejection he feels over it isn't anything new.

Except he's never had a crush on another Alpha, and he's never had a crush on his roommate. Which means that he doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it, to begin with and there's no real escape from Minghao. Even when he isn't around, his scent is as ingrained into the apartment as Mingyu's is. When he is around Mingyu can't come up with enough excuses to avoid spending time with him, can't make himself give up the habit of hanging off of Minghao's back when he's cooking something or leaning their shoulders together when they're watching TV. Somewhere along the line, touching Minghao became a habit that Mingyu isn't sure he even wants to break.

So, his only hope for clearing his head has been spending as much time away from home as possible, away from all the useless temptation that Minghao adds to his life. He's avoiding the problem more than he's solving it, but as much as he's searched for an answer, there doesn't seem to be one. Which means Mingyu is sitting in a different coffee shop than the one he works in, sunk low over one of his textbooks with a little pout on his face when Jun walks through the doors.

Living with Minghao means that Mingyu has gotten used to Jun's scent since the two of them spend so much of their time together (doing what, Mingyu doesn't want to know.) The familiar smell tickles its way past his nose and Mingyu looks up, shaking his mind free of the boring readings to seek Jun out of the mid-afternoon crowd.

He's standing toward the end of the line, bag slung over his shoulder, a bright smile on his face, and Mingyu is about to go back to his book when he realizes that Jun didn't come in by himself. There's another Omega with him, slightly shorter, with a pretty face and soft-looking brown hair standing with his shoulder against Jun's back, their fingers tangled gently together.

For a long moment, Mingyu has a hard time processing what he's seeing. The other Omega leans forward, whispering something in Jun's ear before brushing a delicate kiss on his cheek, the both of them giggling at whatever he said. Mingyu's stomach twists itself into a knot, the hair on the back of his neck standing on its ends.

It's hard to ignore the fact that Jun is definitely on a _date_ with another Omega. Mingyu's body moves faster than his mind does, pushing himself up with enough force that the small table rocks slightly like it might tip over. He's always thought Jun was nice, that he and Minghao seemed good together even with all of their bickering. But here Jun is, cheating on Minghao without the slightest care in the world.

Mingyu isn't quick to anger, but by the time he taps Jun on the shoulder, his hands are shaking with it. Jun turns, his smile getting brighter.

"Mingyu-ya! Are you here by yourself?" He asks, leaning to peek around Mingyu at the back of the shop where he was sitting. "Is Hao Hao with you?"

"No, he's not," Mingyu says, his voice sharp. He can't help but scowl at the question, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm glad he isn't. It wouldn't be fair if he was here to see this."

Jun leans his head to the side, blinking his eyes in slow confusion. "See what?"

"This!" He says, grabbing Jun's wrist and pulling it away from the other Omega, giving him a glare as well. For once, he couldn't care less that he's causing a scene. All he can think about is how horribly unfair it is that someone Minghao cares about so much wouldn't offer him the same in return. The other Omega takes a nervous step back, his eyes dancing between Mingyu and Jun, lips drawn into a tight line.

"It's not right for you to just lead Minghao on," Mingyu says, letting go of Jun's arm with a shake of his head, his other hand clenching into a tight fist. Jun's lips tighten for a second before another smile breaks out on his face.

"I'm not dating Minghao," he says, shaking his head. Mingyu blinks, opening his mouth to argue, only to realize he can't actually remember a single time Minghao said they were together. "We've never been anything like that."

"Never?" Mingyu repeats, the tips of his ears burning. The other Omega seems a little more relaxed now that Mingyu doesn't look like he's going to attack them, and that only makes Mingyu feel more embarrassed. "Really?"

"Really," Jun says, patting Mingyu on the shoulder. "I thought he told you that."

Mingyu shakes his head, his whole face starting to burn. He darts a glance over to the other Omega, clearing his throat awkwardly. "So this is…"

"Joshua," he says, his voice low and sweet. He looks over at Jun for a second before smiling at Mingyu, linking their fingers together. "I _am_ dating Junnie."

It seems for a second like Jun blushes at that but he turns his face before Mingyu can really be sure, covering his mouth with one of his long sleeves and giggling into the fabric.

"Sorry," he says, his eyes curved up as he smiles. "I wonder if I need to make some kind of official announcement that I'm not in love with Minghao."

"It might help," Joshua says, his lips tilting up into a smile. "It's not as obvious as you two seem to think it is."

"Hao Hao would never date me," Jun says, his nose wrinkling. Mingyu ducks his head close to his chest, his shoulders hunched inward, trying to hide inside his own giant frame.

"I'm so sorry," he says, quieter than he means to, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really just thought…"

"It's nice that you're looking out for him," Jun says, giving Mingyu's shoulder another pat. "I'm not sure he'll appreciate it but I do."

"I'll, um," Mingyu laughs nervously, shuffling a step back and shaking his head. "I'll leave you alone. Sorry."

He's so quick to gather his things and leave that he definitely abandons his favorite pen on the table and doesn't realize it until he's in his car, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel, contemplating exactly what a giant idiot he is. He'll be lucky if he's ever allowed into that cafe again after causing such a scene, and he's even luckier that Jun wasn't with another Alpha that decided to rip his throat out.

**{* * *}**

**(jun jun):** _your roommate is scary!!_

The message from Jun is the last thing Minghao is expecting to find waiting for him when he steps out of the shower and he pauses, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, forehead wrinkling as he looks at it. He's not sure Mingyu has ever actually been scary in his entire life.

 **(hao hao):** _my roommate? kim mingyu?_

 **(jun jun):** _he saw me and shua-hyung and thought i was cheating on you_

Minghao's stomach sinks down to the floor. He didn't think that he was going to actually have to explain his relationship with Jun to Mingyu, at least for awhile. He was planning on using the time to figure out something to say; not just about Jun but about the fact that he's gay and hasn't told Mingyu anything about that either. The more time they spend together and the heavier Minghao's heart gets with unwelcome fondness the harder it's been for him to accept that eventually, he's going to have to come out to Mingyu.

So far in his life, Minghao has never had to _tell_ someone else that he's gay. Seokmin found out on accident and put the pieces together himself and Jun figured it out right alongside Minghao. He's never asked if Soonyoung knows though he assumes Seokmin let it slip one time or another— he doesn't mind the idea of Soonyoung knowing.

He's still standing in the bathroom, damp hair dripping cold trails down his shoulders when he hears the door swing open and then shut again and he almost drops his phone in surprise. His heart is pounding in the back of his throat and he's still struggling to think of what he should do about it.

 **(jun jun):** _that means he doesn't know abt you_

Minghao swallows hard at the message, tightening the towel around his waist and hoping Mingyu doesn't stop him on the way to get dressed. He can't think of a worse way to have this conversation than wet and half naked. He swings the door open as quietly as he can, glad that Mingyu apparently went straight into his own room. Minghao nudges his door shut with his heel, chewing on the corner of his lip.

 **(hao hao):** _what did you tell him??_

 **(jun jun):** _just that we aren't together and you wouldn't want to date me. i didn't say why_

Tossing his phone onto his bed, Minghao sighs before unwrapping the towel and scrubbing it furiously through his hair, turning things over and over in his mind the whole time.

He hasn't arrived at a better answer when he finally emerges from his room, dressed in one of his practice shirts and joggers, gripping his phone in one hand. Mingyu is still in his room, either studying or just trying to hide, Minghao isn't sure. He hesitates before knocking on the door, squeezing his hand tighter around his phone.

"It's open," Mingyu says, his voice a little unsteady. Minghao pushes the door open, leaning against the frame of it rather than walking into Mingyu's room. It makes him feel a little better, as silly as it is. He knows Mingyu has a good heart but he can't help the trepidation he's feeling.

"Hey," he says, shoving his phone into his pocket. There's a pink flush over Mingyu's face and Minghao assumes he knows exactly what they're gonna be talking about. He’s sitting at the desk with his shoulders high around his ears, curled in on himself like he wants to hide.

"I didn't mean to ah, ruin Jun-hyung's date," Mingyu says, ducking his head, beating Minghao to the punch. "I don't know what I was even thinking… I just wanted to help."

Minghao was hoping that once he was standing here, he'd know what to say. But he's left staring at Mingyu, still lost.

"It's fine," he says after a minute, drumming his fingers against the wood frame of Mingyu's door. "Jun-ge said he explained?"

It's not exactly what Jun said, but part of Minghao is reluctant to just lay his hand on the table. As much as he trusts Mingyu, he has plenty of experience with just how bad this could go and no real desire to repeat his past mistakes. 

There's a whispering voice in the back of his mind constantly reminding him what the cost of sharing with the wrong person was last time.

"Kinda," Mingyu says, scratching the back of his head. "I just assumed the wrong thing, I guess since you two are always together and Jun-hyung sleeps over here sometimes."

"We're just… close," Minghao says lamely though it's the truth. "He's been my best friend since I moved to Korea."

"I know," Mingyu says, leaning back in his chair. The flush is starting to fade from his face but Mingyu's brows are pinched close together, a wrinkle forming between them that Minghao wants to smooth out with his thumbs.

"I should've just explained before," Minghao says, shifting his weight between his feet and shaking his head. "I'm used to people assuming whatever they want about us, I guess I didn't really think anything of it."

It's not entirely the truth. Minghao has been letting people assume things about his relationship with Jun because it keeps them from asking questions. Even people who know they aren't together still tend to think that there's something more; like Minghao is pining over Jun and not brave enough to do something about it.

The thought would sting less if that wasn't exactly what he was doing when it comes to Mingyu.

"It's okay," Mingyu says, a smile slowly returning to his face. "Sorry I was so embarrassing about it."

It's a testament to how fucked up Minghao is when it comes to Mingyu that the thought of him going out of the way to stand up for Minghao, as stupid and misguided as the effort was, makes heat climb up the back of his neck.

He smiles, hoping that the stupid schoolboy embarrassment he’s feeling doesn’t show on his face. “You should leave picking fights to me.”

Mingyu laughs, the corners of his eyes wrinkling a little when he smiles. His shoulders are more relaxed as well, no longer trying to hide now that he knows Minghao isn’t pissed at him, probably.

“You’re really not interested in Jun-hyung at all?” Mingyu asks, toying with his fingers with his lap. His eyes are focused on his hands though he steals a glance up at Minghao like the question makes him somehow nervous. Minghao’s mouth goes dry, shaking his head before he’s even formulated a proper answer to that in his mind.

“I kissed him once,” Minghao says, mouth moving faster than his brain is. “I was 14, I think? It was the worst day of my life.”

(The truth is that it wasn’t just Jun’s fault, but it’s easier to say just that much than figure out how to tell Mingyu the full story.)

Mingyu laughs, lifting his head to actually meet Minghao’s eyes properly. “Really?”

“I cried,” Minghao says, a grin lifting the corners of his lips as well.

“I probably would too if I had to kiss Wonwoo-hyung,” Mingyu says after thinking it over for a moment, grabbing his books from the desk and pushing himself out of the seat. He steps past Minghao, still leaning in the doorway, his shoulder brushing lightly against Minghao’s chest. He pauses, not quite in Minghao’s personal space but not truly outside it either. “Thanks for, um, telling me.”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, rooted in place. “Of course.”

He watches Mingyu drag his studying onto the couch, trying to shake off the weight of exactly how much he _isn’t_ telling him.

**{* * *}**

Halloween would be much easier for Mingyu to enjoy if it didn't manage to sync up with every single mid-term in the world. As it is, it's October 30th and in spite of the party raging on in the apartment upstairs, he and Minghao are spread out on the living room floor, books in front of them, digging into the bag of candy that Minghao brought home from the last grocery shopping trip.

Minghao hasn't moved a muscle other than his eyes scanning frantically over the page in front of him, brows furrowed, occasionally mumbling a word to himself as he reads, for the past five minutes. As much as Mingyu should be focusing on his own work, it's much more entertaining to watch Minghao. He's flat on his stomach, fluffy brown bangs in his eyes, sighing to himself as he flips the page.

Recently, Mingyu has realized that he finds pretty much everything that Minghao does entertaining to watch. He's been doing his best not to get caught at it, but Minghao glances up as he settles on the next page, his brow furrowing when he realizes Mingyu is staring.

"What?" He says, sitting up a little more on his elbows, head leaning to the side.

"Nothing," Mingyu says, shaking his head and doing his best not to grin, looking down at the book in his own lap. He can't remember anything that he's read in the last hour anyway, his brain is already crammed full of too much information.

"You're gonna fail if you don't focus," Minghao says, reaching out to snag another piece of candy from the bag. It sticks on his slim wrist and when Minghao shakes it off it floats to the ground, empty. Minghao blinks, looking down at the candy and then at Mingyu's pouting face.

"You're taking the last one?" He asks, sticking his lip out. Minghao narrows his eyes, looking for a moment like maybe he's debating actually handing it over to Mingyu.

Then he pinches the wrapper between his fingers like he's planning on tearing it open and Mingyu laughs, shoving the book out of his lap and pouncing onto Minghao's back. Minghao yelps in surprise, clutching the little piece of chocolate in his fist and rolling on his side to elbow at Mingyu's thigh, shaking his head.

"Get off, you oaf," he says, his voice coming out in a grumble. Mingyu shakes his head, flattening his chest on top of Minghao and trying to catch hold of his wrist.

"You should let me have it," he whines, puffing his cheeks out when Minghao reaches his arms over his head. Mingyu's limbs are much longer but he's really looking to get out some of his restless energy by annoying Minghao more than he actually wants the last piece of candy. He reaches up, gripping Minghao's wrist in one hand, pulling it up and trying to force his fingers open.

Unfortunately, in spite of Mingyu's larger size, Minghao is much more experienced, and before he gets the chance to snatch the chocolate out of Minghao's hand he winds up rolled onto his back, Minghao using his free hand to shove Mingyu's leg out of the way. There's a grin on his face when Mingyu looks up at him, still clinging both hands to Minghao's wrist.

"Do you have any balance at all?" Minghao asks, raising an eyebrow as Mingyu squirms vainly underneath him to try and get free. He leans his weight back, his thighs on either side of Mingyu's hips, dropping his weight on top of Mingyu's hips to try and force him to lay still.

The first instinct Mingyu has is to push his hips up in an effort to dislodge Minghao, but that has the unintended side effect of grinding his suddenly very awake dick against Minghao's ass. He drops his hips back to the floor immediately, face flushing bright red, staring up at Minghao and hoping that somehow he didn't notice.

It's definitely not normal to get a boner from your Alpha best friend sitting on top of you, and staring up at Minghao is distinctly not helping the situation. He lets go of Minghao's wrist, giving his hip a weak shove.

"You're heavy," he says, his voice coming out in a whine. There's nothing he could have said that's further from the truth; Mingyu himself isn't terribly strong but he could probably grab hold of Minghao's skinny thighs and pick him up without any real effort. That thought also doesn't help and Mingyu clears his throat, giving Minghao another weak push.

"Heavy?" Minghao says, frowning now. He grabs hold of Mingyu's arm instead, pressing the palm of Mingyu's hand against his side. "You can still feel my ribs, stupid."

Mingyu's hand curls around the arch of Minghao's waist without thinking, fingers pressing just enough to feel the bend of each individual rib underneath the layer of Minghao's lean muscles before he pulls his arm away, nodding. "I guess."

Minghao rolls his eyes and apparently decides that Mingyu has sufficiently given up because he lifts off, rolling to the side and landing back in front of his book with a smug smile on his face, opening his palm to reveal the slightly squished chocolate.

Rather than stick around and watch Minghao gloat as he eats the candy, Mingyu pushes himself up off the floor, curling his shoulders in toward his chest in a vain effort to hide the fact that he’s half hard in his jeans. Minghao says something, probably asking where the hell he’s going, but Mingyu doesn’t register it, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him and leaning his head back against the wood with a groan.

At least most of the signs of his crush on Minghao have been easy to hide up until this point; he can explain away the staring, the getting flustered by random things that Minghao does, clinging to him at any chance he gets.

It’s much, much more difficult to try and come up with an excuse for why wrestling around on the floor with Minghao suddenly gives him a boner.

Mingyu shoves his fingers back through his hair, bumping his head back against the door several times with his eyes shut.

He’s way more screwed than he thought.

**{* * *}**

By the time Minghao can actually go out and celebrate the holiday, it’s two days after Halloween and mid-terms have sucked out most of his spirit.

Jun, apparently no longer interested in doing anything other than staying home to annoy Jihoon and make out with Joshua, refuses to come along and Mingyu wasn’t around by the time Minghao decided he was going to the party that one of the girls in his literature class was throwing.

It’s not that Minghao is particularly bothered by going out alone, he doesn’t need someone to hype him up or hold his hair back, but it would be nice if his friends weren’t wrapped up in their own relationships and impossible to drag out even for a single night.

So, left by himself, Minghao acts on the first whim that occurs to him… he sends a text to the Alpha that Jun dragged him away from hooking up with months ago to find out if he’s too busy like everyone else Minghao knows.

Then, because it turns out that Wooyoung is free and interested, and because whenever Mingyu goes to play video games with Wonwoo he doesn’t come home until late anyway, Minghao decides there's no reason he _shouldn't_ let Wooyoung come home with him as well.

Which is how he finds himself standing in the middle of his own dark bedroom, shirt lost somewhere out of his vision, door kicked lazily shut, with Wooyoung sucking a hickey too high on the side of his neck. He could complain about the mark or he should at least care about it more than he does but he just lets a little hum out through his teeth instead, leaning his back against Wooyoung's broader chest, making the older Alpha support most of his weight.

"You know I have a bed," he says, grinning a little, his voice naturally hushed in the darkness. Wooyoung laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest, his fingers going tighter around Minghao's hips.

"Is that right?" He says the grin on his face pressed to the nape of Minghao's neck. He grazes his teeth over it just slightly and Minghao can't help the shiver that passes down his spine, nodding his head.

He's gone the whole semester so far without getting laid once— in part because it's much different trying to bring other Alphas home now that he lives with Mingyu. Mostly though, he just hasn't felt the need to, plagued already by his tangled feelings for Mingyu.

So it's easy to let Wooyoung navigate him onto the bed, spreading out on his back, knees far enough apart to leave space for Wooyoung in between them, sitting up on his elbows. In the dark, he seems taller than Minghao remembers, his body occupying the entire space of the bed. His hands drag up Minghao's thighs, warm and broad, pushing them further apart.

As much as his body is content to remind him of exactly how long it's been since he last had someone touch him, it's far harder to keep his mind focused. He didn't have enough to drink to really consider himself drunk, but in between every press of Wooyoung's mouth against his, Minghao's thoughts start to wander off in a different direction. He's so distracted that when Wooyoung nips at the curve of his shoulder it comes as a surprise and he yelps louder than he means to.

"Sorry," Wooyoung says, his lips pressed against the same spot as he speaks. Minghao clears his throat, does his best to make his mind relax.

"It's fine," he says, shaking his head, glad there are no lights on to make it obvious how his face is burning.

"Are you cool to bottom?" Wooyoung asks, his thumbs toying with the button of Minghao's jeans and Minghao feels the strangest urge to roll his eyes.

Even the promise of quick, easy sex is apparently not enough to get his brain to let go of thinking about Mingyu. He sits up on his elbows with a little sigh, giving Wooyoung's shoulders a shove to make enough room to sit up properly.

"Sorry," he says, pulling away from Wooyoung, feeling pathetic already. "I'm just… not feeling it."

Wooyoung doesn't move from where he's kneeling on the bed, blinking his eyes in confusion. "Not feeling what?"

"This," Minghao says, making a vague gesture between the two of them with his hand, rolling his eyes a little this time. It still seems to take a minute for Wooyoung to catch on to what Minghao is actually saying, one of his hands bunching into a fist.

"So, what? You _don't_ wanna fuck?" He says, caught between confused and pissed off, it seems. Minghao shoves himself off of the bed, crossing the room to rescue his shirt and flick the lights on, giving a quick nod of his head.

"Pretty much," he says, tucking his arms in front of his chest. He's not anticipating it to be a big deal, after all, he and Wooyoung hardly know each other to begin with. "My roommate is gonna get home soon anyway."

Wooyoung shoves himself up but rather than grabbing his own shirt from where it's draped over the back of Minghao's chair, he growls and steps toward Minghao instead, shaking his head.

"This is bullshit," he says, voice far louder than Minghao expects. Wooyoung is bigger than he is, broad and obviously muscled through his chest and arms, and way madder than he should be for someone being denied sex with a near stranger. But Minghao is used to picking fights with people bigger and heavier than him and before Wooyoung gets close he peels his lip back over his teeth in a growl, reaching out to twist the doorknob open. He would rather Wooyoung just storm off angry than cause any real trouble, especially since there's no one around to break it up.

Wooyoung doesn't seem to have the same thing in mind, because when Minghao reaches for the door his hand snaps forward to grab hold of Minghao's wrist, making him let out a little shout of surprise.

**{* * *}**

Leaving Wonwoo's apartment early was supposed to give Mingyu some quiet time to himself. Minghao already texted him to say that he was going out and Seokmin and Soonyoung were already otherwise engaged with each other.

He must miss the sounds of Minghao coming home, sitting at his desk with his headphones on, but it's hard to miss the shouting coming from his room well after midnight.

"This is bullshit!" Is the first thing he hears from a loud, unfamiliar voice. He blinks, pulling the headphones off of his head in time to hear more than one person snarling in the next room, loud enough that it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Mingyu doesn't take any time to consider what the actual situation might be before he shoves himself out of his chair, swinging his own door open so hard that it bangs against the wall.

So, when he opens the door to Minghao's room, it's a surprise to see him pressed against the wall, shirtless, snarling up at an Alpha that's a full head taller than him, also shirtless. The stranger has one of Minghao's wrists pinned to the wall, their faces close together, Minghao's chin tucked against his chest defensively. As soon as the door open the other Alpha’s head whips around to growl at Mingyu as well, but there’s a clear look of surprise on his face.

He reaches out, grabbing the stranger’s shoulder to try and pull him away from Minghao, barely thinking over the pounding din of his own heartbeat in his head.

In his whole life, Kim Mingyu has only been in two fights. The first was with Wonwoo when he was 12 and had lasted all of ten seconds before Mingyu started crying and Wonwoo had to try and comfort him instead. The second was in high school and didn’t go much better than the first.

So when the Alpha turns, pushing Mingyu’s hand away from his shoulder, Mingyu assumes for a moment that this will be the end of it as well. He’s not anticipating the Alpha’s other hand, the one that was gripping Minghao’s arm, to let go of Minghao to swing his fist at Mingyu’s face.

Mingyu stumbles back dumbly, the whole side of his head throbbing, his back hitting the door and making it slam loudly into the wall. There’s a shift in Minghao’s expression and he shoves the other Alpha out of the room, throwing his shirt at his back.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Minghao says, teeth bared, his voice low and sharp in a way that makes Mingyu cringe a little as well. The other Alpha hesitates, his eyes still narrowed at the both of them like he’s sizing up his chances of winning but Minghao growls once again and he seems to think better of it, storming his way out the front door and slamming it hard behind him.

Minghao’s whole body is still wound tight, shoulders pressed tight around his body like he’s still expecting a fight. Mingyu forces himself to stand straight, one hand still holding onto the side of his face, trying to blink the confusion away from his vision.

“Are you okay?” He says, reaching one hand out toward Minghao, palm facing up, moving more slowly than he would otherwise. The tension bleeds slowly out of Minghao’s wiry frame, laying his hand on top of Mingyu’s, giving it a small squeeze.

“You’re the one bleeding,” Minghao says, releasing Mingyu’s hand and instead of pulling the other away from his face. He steps closer into Mingyu’s space, still not wearing a shirt, a heavy mix of pheromones rolling off his skin. Mingyu blinks hard and does his best not to inhale a lungful of it the way he wants to, leaning his head toward the gentle prodding of Minghao’s long fingers. “I think you might live, though.”

“Did he _bite_ you?” Mingyu asks, pressing his thumb to the side of Minghao’s neck where a dark purple bruise is starting to form. Standing so close, it’s impossible to miss the way Minghao’s face flushes bright red before he slaps Mingyu’s hand away. Resting heavy on his tongue is the question of what the guy was doing here in the first place but some part of him is scared to ask.

Minghao hangs his head, stepping back with a sigh. “Let me clean you up.”

Mingyu usually would argue that he doesn’t need help washing off his own face, but he’s a little dizzy and he can sense that Minghao has more on his mind than sticking a band-aid to Mingyu’s temple. He swallows hard, putting one hand on Minghao’s shoulder to steady himself, letting Minghao haul him off toward the bathroom with a soft _’okay’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I graduated from college!!! Here's an early update to celebrate <3


	7. get hurt

Mingyu is surprisingly quiet for the time it takes for Minghao to sit him down on the closed seat of the toilet, dabbing carefully at the side of his face to clean up the trickle of blood and make sure he isn't actually hurt at all. He's lucky on that front— all Minghao uncovers is a little cut on the side of his face that's already done bleeding by the time Mingyu's face is cleaned up again. Maybe it's because he's just dazed from the hit, but Minghao almost starts to hope that Mingyu is just going to let him go without asking any questions.

It isn't until Minghao turns, rummaging around under their sink for a bandage, that Mingyu clears his throat.

"Um," he says, and with his head stuck under the sink, Minghao can only imagine the look on Mingyu's face. "Was that guy… was he your, uh…"

Mingyu seems unsure how to actually ask the question and Minghao hangs his head for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut.

A week ago, he thought that Mingyu finding out that he and Jun weren't dating was the worst of his problems.

He pulls his head back, shoving the cabinet shut and looking up at Mingyu, squatting on the floor a foot away, still not wearing his shirt, painfully aware of the hickey on the side of his neck. It makes no sense to lie at this point; not after Mingyu caught him red-handed. More than that, though, it makes no sense to lie when Mingyu is willing to take a punch to his pretty face just because he thinks Minghao might be in some kind of trouble, no questions asked.

"I'm not dating him," Minghao says, licking his lips nervously, taking a moment to try and choose his words with care. "I don't really know him. It was just a hookup."

He rubs the back of his neck, looking anywhere in the room than at Mingyu's face. It doesn't help— it's impossible to miss the way Mingyu sucks in a surprised breath, shifting on the seat like he doesn't know what to do with himself. Minghao swallows hard, his throat dry, and continues without waiting for Mingyu to ask.

"I figured you wouldn't be home for a few more hours. I don't bring people back here, ah, usually."

He's still dancing around the topic, avoiding telling Mingyu what he needs to. He dares a glance up at Mingyu only to find him looking a little pale, his focus zeroed in on Minghao's face, brow furrowed.

"So you're…"

"Gay," Minghao says, though it comes out soft, the word getting stuck in his throat. He's never had to _explain_ it to anyone before and hearing it come out in his own voice makes him feel odd. He clears his throat, leaning back a little to give Mingyu as much space as their minute bathroom will around. "Yeah. I'm gay."

For a long, awful moment, Mingyu doesn't say anything at all. As much as Minghao has always wanted to think of himself as a fearless person, he can't bring himself to watch the conflicted emotions that jump across Mingyu's overly honest face. He pushes himself up to his feet, the nerves making his knees wobble. He catches himself with a hand on the counter, letting out a hysterical laugh before he can stop himself.

He hesitates, meaning to thank Mingyu, finding once he turns around to do it he can't make the words come to mind. Mingyu is staring up at him still, his lips parted slightly, hands rubbing anxiously up and down his legs.

"So, before when you said you'd never date Jun-hyung?" Mingyu asks something that Minghao can't quite name glittering in his eyes.

"Yeah," Minghao says, sucking in a deep breath and looking down at the floor. "That's why."

"And when we were at that party," Mingyu says, lifting one of his eyebrows. It takes Minghao a moment to remember exactly what he's talking about, but he can feel his face flush red as soon as he does.

"I'm not exactly open about it," he says, one hand rubbing restlessly up and down the side of his arm. "The only people who know are Jun and Seokmin."

This time, the hurt that crumples Mingyu's expression is unmistakable. It's maybe the shittiest that Minghao has felt about himself in months; realizing that telling Mingyu now means admitting to not trusting him in the first place. As much as he wasn't sure what to expect from Mingyu's reaction, nothing could've prepared him for the way Mingyu looks like he might very well _cry_ about it. It's obvious he's doing his best to cover for it but Mingyu's face has always been an open book.

Without thinking, Minghao reaches out to run his thumb over Mingyu's forehead, trying to ease the furrow between his eyebrows. It's not until he actually touches Mingyu's skin that he realizes he was half expecting Mingyu to flinch back and the contact makes him falter.

"Sorry," he says, dropping his hand by his side, shaking his head. "I didn't know how to tell you."

Minghao edges himself toward the door again, chewing the inside of his lip, wondering if he's going to wake up in the morning to Mingyu packing up his things and finding a new place to live. Before he can actually escape the bathroom and flee back into his own room, Mingyu stands up.

It's definitely the only time that Minghao has found Mingyu anything close to intimidating, which makes it even more surprising when Mingyu lurches forward, wrapping his overly long arms around Minghao's shoulders and pulling him into a hug. Minghao freezes for several seconds, his head pressed to the middle of Mingyu's chest, struggling to understand exactly what's happening.

For once, it seems like Mingyu isn’t sure what to say, because when he lets go of Minghao there’s a pinched sort of expression on his face. One of his hands lingers at Minghao’s side before he steps back, clearing his throat and rubbing at the bandage Minghao stuck to his face.

“I’m, uh,” he says, shaking his head and slipping back through the open door of the bathroom. “Gonna go to bed.”

“Okay,” Minghao says, his voice a little strained from the incredible pressure in the center of his chest. He watches Mingyu slink off, the door to his room closing with a quiet _click_ , leaving Minghao alone to wonder what exactly that response means.

**{* * *}**

When Minghao finally works up the courage to leave his room the next morning, it’s not a huge surprise that Mingyu is already gone. At least none of his stuff is in boxes and he didn’t leave a note on the counter telling Minghao to get out.

For once, Minghao is glad that Jun isn’t one for sleeping in.

 **(hao hao):** _can u put clothes on so i can talk to you_

 **(jun jun):** _only if you bring me a treat!!_

Minghao rolls his eyes, stuffing his phone in his pocket and making sure to lock the empty apartment behind him when he leaves. He's almost reluctant to go; it feels like he should be there to say something to Mingyu whenever he pops up again, but he's not sure where to even begin.

He doesn't bring Jun anything and so when Jun opens the door to find him empty handed he's greeted with a pout rather than any curiosity. Minghao rolls his eyes, nudging his way past Jun and kicking his shoes off with a sigh. Rather than even begin to try and explain he simply throws himself down face first on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Nice hickey," Jun says from above him and the disapproval in his voice makes Minghao peek his eyes open with a huff.

"You don't get to lecture me," he says, rather than pointing out that he didn't actually get laid last night. It's the least of his current problems. Jun sighs, sitting on the arm of the couch, ruffling his fingers through Minghao's hair, messing it up.

"I don't sleep around to run from my feelings," Jun says and Minghao rolls himself to the side so he can glare up at Jun, frowning.

"You still don't get to lecture me," he says, draping one of his arms over his face. "I didn't go through with it."

Jun opens his mouth to say something only to be stopped by a door opening behind him. He twists, looking over his shoulder with a smile on his face. For a moment, Minghao expects it to be Joshua but it's Jihoon, who Minghao had pretty much forgotten lived with Jun at all. He's wearing a sweater several times too large for his skinny frame and scrubbing the sleeves against his eyes, jaws stretched out in a yawn.

He doesn't take an interest in Minghao's distressed form spread out on the couch, only giving Jun a little nod before shuffling his way into the kitchen, his eyes barely peeking open.

"So cute," Jun says, a little sigh in his voice. "When did you get home?"

"Like, three," Jihoon says, wandering around the kitchen with his eyes still mostly closed, making himself coffee. "I picked up DJ-ing a second set."

He seems to only notice Minghao then, pausing and squinting at him for a moment before turning back to the coffee maker, laying his cheek against the counter with a sigh. "Do you want coffee too, Minghao-ya?"

"I'm fine, hyung," Minghao says, pulling his arm away from his face.

"Xiao Hao is having relationship troubles," Jun says, ignoring the way Minghao growls at him for it, ruffling his hair once again. "He needs my help."

"No one needs your help on relationships," Jihoon says, pouring himself coffee as soon as the pot is full enough, a few drops hissing as they hit the hot bottom of the machine. He blows on the cup, turning immediately back toward his room with it cupped between both of his small hands. He pauses, giving Minghao a nod and a little smile. "Hopefully you can find better help than him."

The door swings shut behind him again and Minghao is struggling to hold back his laughter.

Jun doesn't seem bothered by the dig at his love life, shoving Minghao over to make space for him to actually sit on the couch.

"What did you do, then?" He asks, prodding one finger against the bruise on Minghao's neck. Minghao swats his hand away, rolling his eyes.

It takes a moment for him to think of the right words to even begin to explain.

"I went home with a guy I met a few weeks ago," Minghao says, his shoulders slumping in a little. He's not yet over how stupid he feels for the whole thing happening or how scared he is of what's going to happen now when it comes to Mingyu. "I changed my mind, though, and he didn't wanna leave."

"Are you okay?" Jun asks, reaching like he's going to start checking Minghao over for injuries. Minghao nods, holding up his bruised wrist with a shrug.

"He punched Mingyu in the face," he says, leaning his head back against the couch.

"Mingyu-ya?" Jun asks, blinking. After a moment, his eyes go wide. "Does that mean he…?"

"I had to tell him," Minghao says, squeezing his eyes shut, frowning. He opens them again, shaking his head. "I don't really know what he thinks."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really," Minghao says, curling his arms around his stomach when it twists with anxiety. "He looked kinda upset but he just hugged me and went to bed."

Jun hums, shifting to lean his head against Minghao's shoulder. For once, Minghao doesn't complain about the affection, wiggling one of his arms around Jun's side and turning to rest his forehead against the top of Jun's head. It's not really a proper hug but it makes Minghao feel a little better.

"It's good that you told him," Jun says after a moment, rubbing the back of Minghao's arm. "I know it wasn't easy but I think it was good."

"We'll see if anyone beats me up for it," Minghao says, laughing once. There's no humor to it and Jun grunts out a small, displeased sound at the remark.

"Mingyu-ya isn't like that," he says, voice soft.

Part of Minghao knows that's true but a much larger part remembers dragging himself back to Jun's dorm room in high school with a broken wrist and two bruised ribs. His hand drifts unconsciously to rest against his side though he can’t feel the silvery scar imprinted on the skin over his ribs through his clothes, he knows too well exactly where it is.

"We'll see," Minghao repeats, shaking his head and pulling his arm back with a sigh. Jun's lips pull into a tight line for a second, brushing his fingers over the pack of Minghao's neck, palm resting against the little bump that marks the top of his spine. He keeps his hand there, warm and protective.

As badly as Minghao wants to complain that he's an adult and he doesn't need Jun looking after him, it settles his nerves. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Minghao says, though he doesn't immediately shrug off the light touch of Jun's fingers. "It'll work itself out, I guess."

**{* * *}**

It doesn't work itself out, as much as Minghao was hoping that would be the case. What happens instead is Mingyu avoids him for the better part of a week and Minghao doesn't try to stop it. He doesn't go to Mingyu's work or try to meet up with him at lunch or after classes.

Their apartment starts to feel like it's inhabited by ghosts. All the laughing and the little domestic touches that Minghao has gotten used to are gone.

He’s so surprised to walk out of his room and find Mingyu lingering in the kitchen that he almost turns around and walks straight back into his room. 

But he's not the one trying to hide. 

“Hey,” he says, breezing past Mingyu leaning against the stove to dig around in the fridge. It means that he doesn't have to look at Mingyu's face right away and he's a little glad for it because the longer it takes for Mingyu to respond the harder it is not to run away. 

“Hi,” Mingyu says, soft in an uncomfortable way. Minghao's fingers close tighter around the door of the fridge. “I was just um, rice.”

Minghao glances up to see Mingyu wave one big hand at the covered pot on the stove. He stares at it for a second, one eyebrow lifted, wondering exactly how he’s supposed to respond. Mingyu only seems to realize then how strange he sounds because he shakes his head, the back of his neck lighting up a vibrant pink.

Suddenly everything he might have eaten isn’t appetizing anymore. Minghao stands, swinging the door shut behind him and giving his head a little shake. He’s about to stalk back to his room when Mingyu clears his throat, his hand coming down too hard on the counter, making the glasses sitting on it ring with the impact. He seems surprised by it himself, pulling his hand back with the same pink flush starting to creep up his cheeks.

“Do you, um, have dance stuff today?” He asks, not quite meeting Minghao’s eyes. Minghao can feel his heart withering further in his chest the longer Mingyu spends occupying himself with anything else in the room, his eyes darting around wildly.

“Yeah,” he says, though it’s half a lie. He volunteered to come in and work on new choreography with Soonyoung, he didn’t actually have any plans before that. Mingyu’s shoulders deflate a little and Minghao can’t tell if that’s in relief or not. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, debating if he should say something or not.

He isn’t any good at tip-toeing around things like this, least of all with someone he lives with. But as much as he’d like to bite something out to convince Mingyu to stop acting like they barely know each other, he can’t quite find the words for it, still. There’s a tension in his chest that he’s not used to feeling— the fear of what might end up happening if he pushes too hard.

Mingyu turns back to his rice and Minghao barely stops himself from sighing, going back to his room to gather up his practice clothes. He’s not supposed to meet with Soonyoung for another hour but going in early to practice on his own is preferable to trying and failing to have even a single conversation with Mingyu.

He bangs out the front door without saying anything, shoving his fingers back through his hair and sighing out hard through his teeth as he jogs his way down the stairs.

As much as he would like to be able to ignore it, there's an aching in his chest that hasn't gone away since he told Mingyu he wasn't straight. For all of Jun's time saying it was the right thing to do and Seokmin reassuring him that Mingyu could never hate him over something like this, Minghao regrets having spilled. It wouldn't hurt so much if he wasn't already more invested in Mingyu than he should be.

Minghao was supposed to have learned this lesson already; getting his heart involved only caused trouble, and getting it involved with straight Alphas only makes that trouble worse. He scowls at himself, shoving the door to the dance space open with his shoulder.

He shouldn't be surprised that Seokmin and Soonyoung are there-- Seokmin sitting with his back against the mirror and Soonyoung seated in his lap. Soonyoung has his sketchbook open in his lap, chewing the end of his pen as he stares at whatever dance he's trying to work out in the bizarre arrangement of symbols that only he and Seokmin have a chance of understanding. Soonyoung doesn't look up but Seokmin smiles, detaching one hand from Soonyoung's side to wave him over.

"At least you're not making out," Minghao says, sighing as he drops to sit next to Seokmin, fighting the urge to smile a little. Soonyoung grunts, either in a greeting or an agreement, pursing his lips with the pen still trapped between them.

"I'm supposed to be his muse," Seokmin says, rubbing one of his hands up and down Soonyoung's back.

It probably isn't intentional that Seokmin is projecting one of those calming Beta auras all around him but Minghao wiggles a little closer without thinking, a little frown still on his face. Seokmin peeks over Soonyoung's shoulder, humming at whatever it is Soonyoung has started sketching out, before looking back over at Minghao.

"You're still upset," he says, an observation and not a question. Minghao leans his head back between his shoulders with a long sigh.

"What am I supposed to do if he won't even talk to me?" He says, stretching his legs out in front of him. "It's not like I can undo it."

"He's not mad at you," Seokmin says, shaking his head. "He's sad you didn't trust him before."

Minghao doesn't have an answer prepared for that, as much as he perhaps should. He can't explain exactly why he hid the truth from Mingyu for so long without explaining a much longer story than he's ready for.

"I trust him," Minghao says, curling his knees toward his chest, wrapping his arms around them with a sigh. "I just got scared, especially because…"

"Because you're basically in love with him," Soonyoung says, leaning back on Seokmin's chest. Minghao scowls at the both of them and Seokmin squeezes his arms tighter around Soonyoung's sides, hiding his face behind the Omega's shoulder.

"You're not supposed to know that, Soonie," he says, his complaint muffled by Soonyoung's shirt.

"I would've known anyway," Soonyoung says, his eyes curving as he smiles. "It's not that hard to notice."

Minghao can feel the heavy stone forming in his stomach at that, struggling not to let it show on his face. He hadn't considered that in all his worrying about things so far. Now that Mingyu knows that he's into other Alphas it's probably only a matter of time until Mingyu puts two and two together. Seokmin seems to realize it too because he claps one of his hands over Soonyoung's mouth, shaking his head.

"Ignore him," he says, a remark he usually makes about himself. "I don't think you're that obvious about it at all."

"Because he lets everyone cuddle him and carry around his stuff," Soonyoung says, swatting Seokmin's hand away with a roll of his eyes. Minghao opens his mouth to argue but clamps it shut again, his teeth clicking hard together. The look on Soonyoung's face isn't unkind; it's one of those little smiles he has when one of the new dancers just isn't keeping up with his instructions. "You've just got a blind spot when it comes to Mingyu."

All Minghao wants is for the ground to open up underneath him and swallow him whole.

“Don’t bully him,” Seokmin says, giving a tighter squeeze around Soonyoung’s middle until he squeaks, trying vainly to wiggle away.

“You’re no help at all,” Minghao says, shaking his head with a sigh. “Either of you.”

**{* * *}**

It’s both easier and harder than Mingyu expects to try and stay out of Minghao’s way.

Easy because Minghao doesn’t seem to be going out of his way to try and talk either. They slink around the apartment in an effort to avoid saying more than a handful of words to each other.

What makes it hard is the surprising amount that Mingyu misses Minghao even when they’re in the same apartment. He still sees him every day— it’d be nearly impossible not to, but there’s a wall between them that Mingyu doesn’t know what to do about.

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel about the fact that Minghao is apparently gay. It isn’t a shock but every time he thinks about it his stomach twists around a whirl of confused feelings— and he thinks about it a lot.

He’s still thinking about it when he knocks on Wonwoo’s door, rubbing nervously at the ugly fading bruise on the side of his face. Wonwoo opens the door with his jaw stretched in a yawn, eyes squinted halfway shut.

Mingyu is half hoping that means he won’t notice the bruise but as soon as he blinks his eyes open one of his eyebrows lifts. “Who hit you?”

“It’s a long story,” Mingyu whines, kicking his shoes off when Wonwoo lets him through the door, some of the tension bleeding out of him at the naturally calming Beta scent that's stuck to everything. “Remind me why I didn’t move in with you?”

Wonwoo huffs a little laugh as he drops onto the couch, shaking his head. “I didn’t want you to.”

“Right,” Mingyu says, taking his own seat with a sigh.

“Are you saying that Minghao punched you in the face?” Wonwoo asks, his lips tilting up toward a smile. “Because if he did I hope there’s a video.”

“No,” Mingyu says, pushing his hands back through his hair with a sigh. “It was the guy he brought home the other night.”

Both of Wonwoo’s eyebrows lift curiously and Mingyu snaps his mouth shut before anything else can come out.

“Minghao… brought someone home who punched you in the face?” Wonwoo asks, pausing in the middle like that question needs any more emphasis. Mingyu can feel the heat creeping into his face slowly, burying his face in his hands.

“Something like that,” Mingyu mumbles, refusing to lift his head out of his palms. Wonwoo whistles lowly and Mingyu has to swallow down the desire to get up and leave before he says something else that Wonwoo will never let him live down.

"So you're mad at him because of that?" Wonwoo asks, leaning his head to the side. Mingyu finally lifts his head up, dropping his hands back to his lap with a heavy sigh that makes his shoulders sink a little.

"Nah, I'm not mad about it," Mingyu says, shaking his head. He's not even certain he _is_ angry at Minghao, to begin with. "It wasn't really his fault, it just happened."

Wonwoo nods, and this time he doesn't ask another question, waiting for Mingyu to get around to the point on his own. When they were younger, this was a habit that annoyed Mingyu to no end; the way Wonwoo would build up to a subject he didn't want to talk about and then just abruptly stop asking, forcing Mingyu to figure out how to explain it on his own.

Now though it's a little more helpful. Minghao's secrets aren't his to tell, even to someone he trusts as much as Wonwoo.

"He just... I found out he was keeping something from me," Mingyu says, still struggling with how exactly to explain. "We've been living together for months and he just told me about it now."

"Is he dying?" Wonwoo asks a hint of amusement in his voice. Mingyu shoots him a little glare before shaking his head, finding it far less funny. "Why are you so bothered, then?"

That's the core of what Mingyu can't explain, even to himself. Putting it simply, all of it bothers him but not in the way that Minghao seems to expect. He's not bothered that Minghao is gay but he's bothered that Minghao never told him-- that Minghao doesn't trust him as much as he trusts Seokmin or Jun. He also hasn't been able to stop thinking about Minghao bringing another Alpha home, as much as he's embarrassed by the way it makes his hackles rise up jealously. There's a primal, terrible part of his brain that takes objection to the idea that Minghao needs any _other_ Alpha to please him when he has Mingyu around.

"He doesn't trust me," Mingyu says finally, trying to shove his stupid instincts to the back of his mind where they belong. He sounds like a sulky child when he says it and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

"That's what you're so annoyed by? Really?"

"He's one of my best friends," Mingyu says, crossing his arms over his chest. Pouting isn't going to get him any sympathy from Wonwoo but he can't seem to make himself stop it either. "He should've told me months ago."

"Because you're taking it so well," Wonwoo says, his lips tilting up into a smile. "He was probably trying to avoid you acting like this."

"Like what?" Mingyu says, even though he knows exactly what Wonwoo is talking about.

"Like you're ten," Wonwoo says, shaking his head. "Did he say why he kept it a secret?"

"Sort of," Mingyu says, dropping his eyes to stare down at his lap. What Minghao didn't say he's capable of filling in on his own. It's exactly the kind of information that could make Minghao's life difficult if people heard about it. "He said Seokmin and Jun were the only people who know."

"I think you should quit being a baby," Wonwoo says, shaking his head. Mingyu makes an offended noise in the back of his throat but finds he can't exactly argue with that either. "You know Minghao trusts you. He moved in with you, which is more than I was willing to do."

On the tip of his tongue, Mingyu wants to confess that part of the reason he's so hurt is because of his own feelings for Minghao but he stops himself. Wonwoo wouldn't react badly... he probably wouldn't have much of a reaction at all. But he's also far more clever than Mingyu is and it wouldn't be fair for him to find out about Minghao, even if he just figured it out himself.

"So I have to go apologize?" Mingyu asks, wrinkling his nose at the prospect. Wonwoo laughs, his nose scrunching up in amusement.

"Yes, you big idiot," he says, shaking his head. "You didn't need me to tell you that."

He's right, of course, but Mingyu shoots him a glare for it anyway.

**{* * *}**

The last thing Minghao is expecting to come home to after letting Soonyoung kick his ass through dance practice all night is the warm, spicy smell of Mingyu's cooking filling up the whole apartment. It's immediately comforting, even though the two of them have mostly been eating on their own lately. He kicks his shoes off, using one foot to nudge them into a neat line next to Mingyu's, planning on just stalking off to his room until Mingyu's finished using the kitchen.

"Hey," Mingyu says, his voice cheery, leaning around the doorway to the kitchen to smile brightly at Minghao. Minghao pauses in the doorway, staring blankly at him for a moment, letting the greeting grind through the gears in his head. Mingyu has the goofy apron that Minghao and Seokmin picked out for him tied around his waist, the front printed with a cartoon-ish maid outfit. He has his hair pushed back from his face and Minghao can see a little bit of flour smeared over one of his cheeks, down to the side of his neck, probably from scratching his face.

It's cute— Mingyu is cute. It makes Minghao's chest feel full and empty at the same time and by the time he actually wraps his head around the image, Mingyu's face has started to fall.

"Hey," Minghao says finally, dropping his bag on the couch.

"I'm making food," Mingyu says, just as bright as ever, apparently not bothered by the fact he's pointing out the blatantly obvious. "You don't have any plans for tonight, do you?"

Minghao shakes his head, fingers pulling nervously at the bottom of his practice shirt. As pathetic as it is, if he had any plans he would probably cancel them for the chance to spend some actual time with Mingyu. Mingyu's smile gets wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"That's good," he says, turning back toward the kitchen. Minghao trails after him, leaning his hip against the counter and watching Mingyu's back as he returns to the heavy-bottomed pot of oil he has on the stove. There's more flour on the apron than there is on his face and Minghao can barely help the desire to reach out and try to dust it off of him.

"Fried chicken?" He asks, raising a curious eyebrow. The smell in the kitchen is enough to make his stomach growl, especially after spending his whole afternoon running all of Soonyoung's new choreography ideas over and over to see how they looked. Mingyu looks over with a nod, wrinkling his nose as he looks at his messy apron.

"You might have to help me clean up later," he says, chuckling a little. Minghao rolls his eyes, reaching a hand out and waving Mingyu over.

He doesn't think about the fact that they've been avoiding each other until Mingyu is standing directly in front of him, his shoulders slouched slightly inward, the glow of his smile still firmly in place. Minghao is tempted to ask, for one wild moment, if he's doing this because he's decided to move out. But he shoves the thought out of his head, reaching up to brush the flour off of his neck.

He moves his hand slow enough that Mingyu has plenty of time to lean away if he wants to but he doesn't. He leans toward Minghao's outstretched fingers instead, giggling when Minghao's thumb runs over the side of his jaw, wiping the dusty mess away. There's something on his face-- the way Mingyu's lips part slightly, his head tilted toward the gentle press of Minghao's fingers, that makes Minghao reluctant to pull his hand back. He moves it up a little, his fingers skirting around the fading bruise on Mingyu's face.

"It looks really ugly, doesn't it?" Mingyu asks, his nose wrinkling as he smiles. Minghao lifts one of his shoulders, his fingers stretched out to cradle the side of Mingyu's head.

"Nah," he says, shaking his head. "It makes you look tough."

Minghao doesn't process how close they are until Mingyu's breath brushes over his cheek, soft and warm. When he realizes it, the position they're in makes his face flush pink; Mingyu is bent close enough for their breaths to mingle, one of his hands resting on the counter, letting Minghao touch the side of his face. He's gone a little pink at the tips of his ears as well and Minghao's mind empties dangerously of everything except for the fact that they're close enough to kiss if he was brave.

The way Mingyu's eyes drop for just a second toward his mouth is probably a product of Minghao's imagination. His pupils are wide black circles, taking over most of his eyes and Minghao's stomach twists nervously. It isn't that Mingyu being in his space is odd; Mingyu is clingy with everyone and Minghao is around enough to have become one of his favorite targets. But since Minghao came out he's kept his distance.

They linger like that for another moment before Minghao finally pulls his hand back, turning his head to the side and clearing his throat.

"I should, um, shower," he says, the words tumbling nervously out of his mouth. Mingyu seems to shake himself a little, taking a step back with a nervous giggle.

"Yeah, okay," he says, rubbing his hands over the front of the apron, loosing a little cloud of white dust in front of him. "This should be ready in a bit."

"Cool," Minghao says, still pinned in place. He waits until Mingyu goes back to the stove to breathe again, pushing himself away from the counter.

"Hey," Mingyu says before he steps out of the kitchen, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "We're ah, okay, right?"

Minghao can't help the slow smile that breaks out on his face, nodding his head. "Yeah. We're fine."

Before he steps out of the kitchen he catches sight of Mingyu wiggling his shoulders the way he does when he's excited and has to bite back a laugh, biting the inside of his cheek.

The whole time he's in the shower Minghao has to convince himself that Mingyu wasn't _actually_ about to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this early this week for two reasons: One because I need to finish my svtbb fic and two because I don't want this to get lost when all the svtbb fics get posted. Hope no one minds it a few days ahead of time~


	8. jenga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I did all that stuff for Soonie," Seokmin says, the tips of his ears glowing pink. "The courting stuff, I mean."
> 
> "Mingyu isn't trying to court me," Minghao says, rolling his eyes. "He's just being a pain."
> 
> "It sounds like that's what he's doing," Seokmin says, turning his head to grin at Minghao. "Wouldn't that be good for you, anyway?"
> 
> "Mingyu's straight," Minghao says, laying his cheek against Seokmin's shoulder. "And I'm not… I don't wanna _date_ him."

When it comes to dating, Mingyu has always done his best to be a perfect gentleman.

Even though he’s not dating Minghao ( _yet,_ a hopeful part of his brain offers) it doesn’t seem like it’s winning him over.

For days, Mingyu has been trying to convey his interest in Minghao the same way he would if he was interested in anyone else. Minghao, however, is making it difficult.

“Why are you taking my bag?” He asks, reaching for the strap in Mingyu’s hand, the remnants of his lunch still balanced in the other. Mingyu laughs, spinning out of the way just barely in time to keep Minghao from snatching it, tossing the strap over his shoulder rather than giving it back.

“I’m carrying it,” he says, sticking his tongue out just a little when Minghao huffs at him.

“I get that,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t reach to take it back quite yet and Mingyu takes that as something of a victory on his end. “I’m asking _why_ you’re carrying it.”

“Because I want to,” Mingyu says, a blush burning over the back of his neck.

He’s starting to think that maybe he’s read the signals wrong. At the beginning of the week, when he made them dinner and offered an awkward, half-baked apology that put their friendship back on its feet, Mingyu was certain he wasn’t alone in whatever he’s been feeling for Minghao. But now, he’s wrestling with his doubts. He follows Minghao out of the dining hall, adjusting the strap of Minghao’s bag on his shoulder and sweeping his eyes over Minghao’s back while he’s distracted.

For a moment he was so certain that Minghao was going to kiss him. He was so certain that he almost leaned in and did it himself.

But nothing seems to be getting the message across. Every time Mingyu does what he’s supposed to do to get a little closer, Minghao slides just out of his reach. Mingyu carries his stuff and Minghao acts annoyed with him, he walks Minghao to class and Minghao scolds him for being late to his own.

“I’m stronger than you are, y’know,” he says, tossing a look over his shoulder and Mingyu has to resist the urge to sigh.

“I’m bigger,” he says instead, quickening his pace so he’s walking next to Minghao. The back of their hands brush together once and a tingle shoots all the way up Mingyu’s arm. He wants so badly to lace his fingers through Minghao’s, to feel the length of his delicate fingers. Minghao giggles, jabbing his elbow at Mingyu’s ribs.

“You’re useless,” he says, his eyes sparkling with another restrained laugh. “I’ve seen you fight.”

“He caught me off guard,” Mingyu says, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk to whine loudly.

As frustrated as he is with the fact that Minghao is either ignoring him or pretending not to notice, Mingyu can’t help but be happy that things between them have gone back to normal, at least for the most part. It isn’t a great sign that even a few days of tension made Mingyu feel like something vital was missing from his life, but he’s willing to ignore it for now.

For the third time in as many days, Mingyu walks Minghao all the way to his next class without commenting on where they’re going, only returning his bag to him when they’re standing outside the classroom and Minghao gives him a look like he’s tired of Mingyu being silly; mostly fond and only a touch annoyed.

“Are you practicing tonight?” Mingyu asks, standing closer to Minghao than he would to any other Alpha. It must be that he does this a lot because Minghao doesn’t react to that either, just tipping his head back slightly and humming out an answer while Mingyu steals a glance at the long column of his throat.

The stupid hickey that’s been driving Mingyu insane is finally gone. With it, Mingyu was hoping that the urge to sink his own teeth into the delicate skin would be gone as well. That doesn’t seem to be the case, because when Minghao turns to peer through the door to the class and the tendon of his neck stands out, Mingyu still wants to close his mouth around it and taste Minghao’s skin.

His tongue darts out over his lower lip, leaning in without meaning to. Minghao turns back toward him, his mouth slightly open, probably to say something, only to stare silently at Mingyu, his eyes going a little wide.

In a panic, Mingyu does the only thing he can think of when he’s already so close— he leans in the rest of the way and brushes his cheek over Minghao’s, leaning in until his jaw is against the side of Minghao’s neck. He nuzzles it there for the briefest second he can politely get away with— not that scent marking Minghao in a hallway with no warning is exactly polite— before pulling back.

Minghao’s whole face is glowing red; Mingyu pretends not to notice.

“I’ll, um, I’ll see you after,” Minghao says, the words coming out in a confused tangle before he turns on his heel and darts into the classroom. He leaves Mingyu standing by himself in the middle of the hall, feeling like possibly the biggest idiot in the world. He's going to be lucky if Minghao even talks to him again in the next three days after a stunt like that.

Still, when he turns to leave he can't ignore the whiff of Minghao's scent clinging to his skin, bright and citrusy, and it makes him smile. He can't hide how much he wants to always have that tease of Minghao's pheromones under his nose just like he can't hide how much he wants to hold Minghao's hand.

Maybe he won't have to keep trying for much longer, either.

**{* * *}**

"Mingyu's being weird," Minghao grumbles, unable to keep the sour note out of his voice. Seokmin looks up from his book, slipping his fingers under the wire rims of his glasses to rub at one of his eyes.

"Why now?" He says, extracting his attention from studying to Minghao. He looks happy to do it and Seokmin actually managed to keep focused for much longer than Minghao is used to, so he doesn't feel too bad about being a distraction now. "I thought you guys were cool.”

"We were!" Minghao says, throwing his head back with a sigh. "We are. I don't know. He's being weird."

Seokmin rolls his eyes, his head turned slightly like he's hoping Minghao won't catch it. Minghao does and he shoves at Seokmin's shoulder; after all the lovesick tirades he's put up with in the past Seokmin owes him at least this much.

"He's just acting… different," Minghao says, shaking his head. There's a funny curl in his stomach whenever he thinks too hard about it and that makes him reluctant to explain.

"Different how?" Seokmin asks, giggling as he rights himself from being pushed over to the floor. Minghao huffs, pressing his back against the couch a little harder and shaking his head.

"He always wants to carry my bag around," Minghao says, toying with his fingers in his lap. "And he keeps walking to class with me even though we're never in the same building."

"He does?" Seokmin asks, lifting both his eyebrows, a little grin on his face.

"And he scent marked me in the hall the other day," Minghao says, shaking his head, the indignation in his voice probably not doing enough to cover the way he's blushing. "There were people everywhere and he just…"

Minghao trails off, laying his head on the cushion of the couch with a groan.

Truth told, Mingyu has picked up a habit of scent marking him much more than he used to, but he's only done it in public one time. Minghao would usually be happy to shrug that off as an after effect of the fight he got into with Wooyoung; an extra instinct to protect someone he's close to.

But Minghao is an Alpha and he needs Mingyu's protection least of all.

The corners of Seokmin's lips twitch, staring at Minghao like he's not certain Minghao is telling him the truth before he bursts out laughing. It's a big laugh, one where he rolls to the side and clutches at his stomach and laughs so long and hard that Minghao wonders if he's going to eventually run out of air and die.

He doesn't, but there are tears in his eyes when he sits up, wiping them away hastily and fixing his askew glasses. "Did he really do that?"

"Right outside the classroom!" Minghao says, shaking his head. "He's being freaky."

Another giggle creeps out of Seokmin's mouth before he can stop himself. "Yeah, sure."

"Ya!" Minghao says, sitting up with a frown. "You two better not be playing a joke."

"We're not!" Seokmin says, holding his hands up in front of him. He's projecting calming Beta pheromones in a little cloud all around him and Minghao figures it's probably unintentional because he doesn't even really scare Seokmin when he actually snarls at him. "I didn't know he was doing any of this."

"What's he doing?" Minghao says, squinting his eyes now. He doesn't like feeling like Seokmin knows more than he does.

"Well if you were an Omega he'd be courting you," Seokmin says, grinning as he chews on the corner of his lip. "Has he been bringing you flowers and cooking for you too?"

"Mingyu always cooks," Minghao says, his voice taking on a defensive hiss. Courting is an entirely foreign concept to Minghao, to the point where he can't even recall the traditions well enough to say if Seokmin is right or wrong about it. It's hard to imagine that's really what's going on though since Minghao isn't an Omega and Alphas don't court each other.

"You didn't recognize it?" Seokmin asks, his eyebrows vanishing under his dark bangs.

"Forgive me for never being _courted_ before," Minghao says, more hostile than he means to be.

Relationships have always been a touchy subject, even before his shitty, inconvenient crush on Mingyu developed. Minghao's only had one significant relationship so far in his life— outside of one night stands and fooling around with people who don't meet his eyes in the halls after— and the experience didn't leave him eager for a repeat.

Without thinking about it, he's curled in on himself, one hand wandering over his side where the pale, jagged scar rests against his flesh.

Seokmin's mouth turns down in a little frown, wiggling closer and nuzzling his cheek against Minghao's shoulder in an attempt to soothe his sudden distress. "I didn't mean it like that."

Minghao huffs out a sound that's supposed to be an agreement, nuzzling Seokmin just a little in return. He's never told the story to Seokmin, or anyone else for that matter, but they're close enough that he's not surprised Seokmin has figured out it's not something Minghao is fond of discussing.

"I did all that stuff for Soonie," Seokmin says, the tips of his ears glowing pink. "The courting stuff, I mean."

"Mingyu isn't trying to court me," Minghao says, rolling his eyes. "He's just being a pain."

"It sounds like that's what he's doing," Seokmin says, turning his head to grin at Minghao. "Wouldn't that be good for you, anyway?"

"Mingyu's straight," Minghao says, laying his cheek against Seokmin's shoulder. "And I'm not… I don't wanna _date_ him."

"You've wanted to date him for months," Seokmin says, rolling his eyes and smacking a kiss against Minghao's temple when he growls weakly. "And how do you know Mingyu's straight?"

"Because he goes out to those stupid mixers all the time," Minghao says. Or at least, he used to. After a moment Minghao realizes he can't remember the last time Mingyu went out to one of those get-togethers, or even on a date at all. He slumps a little further in on himself, his lower lip sticking out in a pout as he thinks it over. He has the sense that if Mingyu wasn’t straight he would somehow know, in spite of the way he hid from Mingyu for months himself.

“It’s worth thinking about,” Seokmin says, shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Minghao says, his voice reduced to a stubborn grumble. He can’t let go of the part of his brain coming up with any reason, any excuse, for Mingyu’s behavior that doesn’t make him hope for things that are never going to really happen.

He leans away from Seokmin with a sigh, returning his attention to the assignment he’s meant to be working on. Seokmin gives him a little nudge with his chin, looking over at Minghao with a bright smile on his face. “Dating Mingyu might not be the worst thing in the world, y’know.”

“Maybe,” Minghao says, reluctant to admit even that much.

**{* * *}**

Minghao is doing his very best to ignore the way Mingyu is hanging off his shoulder, cheek pressing into the side of his neck. He’s probably only seconds away from scent marking Minghao again and Minghao is going to have to stand stock still and resist the urge to sink his teeth into Mingyu’s neck the way he wants to.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, tickling the tips of his fingers over Minghao’s sides. “We should go do something.”

“Like what?” Minghao says, turning his head reluctantly. Mingyu is stooped over to lean his chin on Minghao’s shoulder and the angle of his body looks a little ridiculous. Minghao can feel the way his lips want to twitch up into a smile but he does his best to stop it.

“I dunno,” Mingyu says, his voice lifting into a whine. “I’m bored.”

Minghao sighs, but it’s mostly a token show of annoyance than any real reluctance. Mingyu’s arms wrap around his sides, leaning his weight back to pull Minghao away from his desk, the chair squeaking across the floor. Minghao laughs, reaching out to try and catch the edge of the desk but missing. He drops his arms, leaning his head back to look up at Mingyu.

“You’re bored?” He asks, teeth catching the corner of his lip. Mingyu nods.

“Fine,” Minghao says with another heaving sigh. “Let’s go out.”

Mingyu lets out a happy yip close to Minghao’s ear before standing up, finally letting go of Minghao. Minghao shoves his way out of the chair, yanking off the sleeveless shirt he was wearing while at least attempting to get through some of his homework, turning to dig something clean and more fashionable out of his drawer.

"Hey," Mingyu says, taking up space on Minghao's bed while he gets dressed. "What's that from?"

Minghao can feel every muscle in his back tense so suddenly it hurts and he has to swallow the desire to clap one of his hands self-consciously over the scar. It's not bad, at least not from the outside. The pale half-moon curve of it really only stands out in the light and few people have ever bothered to ask him about it.

"What?" Minghao asks, turning to glance over his shoulder like he doesn't immediately know what Mingyu is talking about. His tongue feels like cotton in his mouth and he yanks the next shirt his fingers touch out of the drawer, almost sighing in relief when he comes away holding a striped sweater that hangs loose on his sides.

"On your side," Mingyu says, standing up before Minghao has the chance to jerk the sweater over his head.

It seems like whenever Mingyu gets anywhere near him lately, Minghao freezes up. He doesn't think to turn away before Mingyu's thumb traces the line of the scar delicately, the pads of his fingers making Minghao's skin tingle.

"Sorry," he says, pulling his hand back with a little shake of his head. "I was just curious."

"It's from a fight," Minghao says, taking a step back and pushing the drawer behind him shut with his elbow. He pulls the sweater on, hoping his panic doesn't show in the flailing motions of his arms when he stuffs them into the sleeves. "I got jumped in high school once."

Mingyu blinks, his head leaning a little to the side, but Minghao doesn't offer any further details. At least he didn't lie, even if the background is just a little more complicated than that.

"Where do you wanna go?" Minghao says, glad to have the chance to step away from Mingyu to rescue his phone from the desk. He tucks the front of the sweater into his jeans, plucking at the hem of it for a moment until he's happy with the way it sits.

Mingyu hums from the back of his throat like he hadn't stopped to think that far ahead when he asked.

"Shopping?" He says after a moment of thought because the both of them are weak when it comes to clothing, to begin with. Minghao nearly rolls his eyes at the suggestion but Mingyu beats him to the punch, sticking his lip out in a pout. "You can bring your camera if you want and I'll be your model for the day."

"Alright, fine," Minghao says, shaking his head. Mingyu's face brightens instantly and he trails off into his own room, probably to grab his own stuff. Minghao loops the strap of his camera around his neck, stuffing his wallet in his pocket and taking a moment to let out the heavy breath he's been holding since Mingyu touched him.

Rather than the big shopping center, Jun likes, Mingyu drives out to a street of smaller shops and insists they stop and get coffee before doing anything else. He tries to offer to carry Minghao's camera for him but Minghao refuses him outright.

"I can't take pictures if you're the one holding on to it," he says, shaking his head. In the back of his mind, Minghao can't quite forget what Seokmin said about Mingyu trying to court him. 

He wants to forget about it, or at least stick to his certainty that Mingyu couldn't possibly be trying to romance him but as soon as he sees something that interests him in a shop window he reaches back to wrap his fingers around Minghao's wrist, pulling him along. The pressure of his hand is gentle, fingers curled around the thudding point of Minghao's pulse. It isn't like they're holding hands, but Mingyu hardly needs to hold onto him to get him to follow along.

Still, Minghao doesn't have the strength of will to shake himself free.

"That's cool, isn't it?" Mingyu says when he comes to a sudden halt, Minghao almost bumping into him. In the shop window, there's a vintage leather jacket with an embroidered green dragon creeping its way up the sleeve. It is cool— it's one of those things you can tell is expensive just by looking at it.

"Like you need another leather jacket," Minghao says instead of agreeing, a little smile on his face. Mingyu huffs, turning to give Minghao a betrayed look.

"I don't think you can scold me about my clothes," he says, obviously fighting the urge to smile. They barely have enough closet space for the two of them as it is, so Minghao can't really refute that.

"Whatever," he says, nudging his elbow into Mingyu's side, biting down on the straw of his iced coffee.

"It's probably too small anyway," Mingyu says, more brightly than Minghao expects. His fingers are still wrapped around Minghao's wrist, he's probably forgotten he's even holding on. Minghao can't quite ignore it: the gentle pressure of Mingyu's hand, the way his fingers fit so easily around Minghao's thin wrists, the warmth that seeps through the sleeve of his shirt and into his skin.

They're really only inches away from actually holding hands and Minghao is surprised by how badly he wants it. The worst part of his crush on Mingyu is the way it constantly takes him by surprise. He hasn't had a feeling like this in his heart for so long that the sheer amount of _want_ he feels for simple, stupid things like holding hands is staggering. 

It's the reason he should stop saying yes to things like this. He's only toying with his own heart.

"C'mon," he says, pulling his arm gently away and walking down the sidewalk. He hopes the back of his neck isn't burning red, though if he notices Minghao blushing, Mingyu hasn't commented on it yet. Mingyu chases after him with a little laugh, shaking around the ice in his plastic cup.

It's a little cold to be wandering in and out of shops but Minghao doesn't mind it. The November wind cuts through the knit fabric of his sweater and he wishes he'd worn a heavier coat over it like Mingyu did, trying his best to keep himself from shivering. It wouldn't be so much of a bother if he didn't get cold so quickly; he lacks the layer of fat that Seokmin and Mingyu have that keep their bodies hot as furnaces.

It isn't that long before Mingyu notices, too.

"You should've dressed warmer," he says, a little admonishment in his tone. He's in the middle of posing for Minghao to take a picture of him, seated on a graffitied bench with his knees spread apart, arms draped casually between them. Minghao tries to get his shoulders to stop shaking.

"I'm fine," he says, though his heart isn't fully in it. He doesn't hate the cold as much as Jun does but the breeze is getting harder and harder to ignore. With a little giggle, Mingyu stands up, ruining the shot Minghao was trying to compose, shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders.

"Just put it on," Mingyu says, holding the woolly peacoat out. Minghao can't help but scowl at it, curling his fingers into a little fist at his side.

Inside his chest, his heart is running at a jack rabbit's pace. There's a casual possessiveness to sharing clothing; it's something people really only do with pack members or people they're dating. He and Mingyu might be considered something close to the first, but it's not exactly normal for Minghao to go around wearing another Alpha’s coat.

Mingyu seems to read his hesitation, lifting one of his shoulders in a shrug. "It's cold. All your stuff probably smells like me, anyway."

Minghao can't deny to himself how badly he wants to be wrapped up in Mingyu's scent, to feel the latent warmth of his skin still clinging to the fabric— it makes a little tremble shake down his spine and he hopes it passes for another shiver from the cold. He loops the strap of his camera over his neck once again, his cheeks burning when he reaches out and takes the jacket, shrugging it on.

"Thanks," he says, resisting the urge to bury his face in the wool collar and breathe in Mingyu's scent until he can't smell anything else.

Mingyu's cheeks are flushed as well, probably from the breeze, but his eyes do a quick drag up and down Minghao's body. The coat is a little long for him, the ends of the sleeves draping off of his hands, but he doesn't mind it. The black looks fine with his outfit, anyway.

He's forgotten the picture he wanted to take. He clears his throat, stuffing his hands in Mingyu's pockets to clamp his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. He needs the distraction to remind himself why he can't close the few feet between them and pull Mingyu into the coat with him. Just like he can't lean up on his toes and scent mark Mingyu just so they both smell like each other. It's one thing to let Mingyu do it to him in quick good-bye gestures before he goes to class or off to dance practice but it's another thing to try initiating it himself.

Once he got started he'd probably never be able to stop. He would want the whole world to be able to tell that Kim Mingyu is _his._

Except Mingyu isn’t his, as much as Minghao might spend his time wishing otherwise.

Minghao releases the grip of his fists but turns away from Mingyu’s lingering stare, clearing his throat. He doesn’t know what to say so he grabs hold of his camera again, focusing the lens on a dead potted plant in the window of a store, taking a picture of it just to buy himself some time.

“Wanna go over this way?” Mingyu asks when Minghao quits pretending to be interested in the brick wall in front of him.

With a nod, Minghao steps ahead of him, chewing the inside of his cheek until his mouth tastes metallic.

**{* * *}**

It doesn’t take very long for Mingyu to realize that offering to let Minghao wear his jacket was maybe something of a mistake.

Not that Mingyu is particularly bothered by the cold, though the breeze rushing over the back of his neck makes his hair stand on end and brings a pink flush up into his cheeks.

The problem is that watching Minghao wander around with his jacket on awakens a possessive urge in him that refuses to be stuffed to the back of his mind. When he offered the jacket, he didn’t think that hard about it— Minghao was cold and it seemed like he needed it more than Mingyu.

There wasn’t an ulterior motive in his mind but now he can’t wrench his attention away. Even if it wasn’t meant that way, it sends a signal to the other people they pass that he and Mingyu belong together.

The thought of that pleases Mingyu more than it should.

“You’re not cold, right?” Minghao asks after a prolonged bit of silence. He’s looking up from clicking through the pictures on his camera, his head tilted slightly.

“I’m fine,” Mingyu says, shaking his head quickly. He’s not lying but his words still come out too fast and Minghao’s lips purse together like he’s not certain if Mingyu’s telling the truth.

“Really,” he adds, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It’s not bad.”

Minghao nods, letting the camera hang loose around his neck once more. “Are you hungry?”

“A little,” Mingyu says, a smile lifting on his face. Sometimes lately it’s felt like Minghao can’t get away from him fast enough. But this is more normal— more comfortable. Neither of them has actually bought anything, but the cold and the time walking around stores means there’s an empty spot in Mingyu’s stomach that needs filling.

Not that he’s ever that likely to turn down food.

“I think there’s a chicken place around the corner,” Minghao says, pinching one of the buttons of Mingyu’s coat between his fingers and twisting it slowly. It’s much more distracting than it should be and it takes Mingyu a long moment to answer.

“Huh?” He says, blinking his eyes.

Minghao huffs but the smile doesn’t leave his face. “Chicken.”

“Right,” Mingyu says, giggling a little. “Close by?”

“Do you listen at all?” Minghao says, shaking his head before reaching out and grabbing hold of Mingyu’s arm. “C’mon.”

Mingyu grins, dragging his weight backward as Minghao tries to pull him, just to make it more difficult. Minghao shoots him a glare, tightening his grasp and giving Mingyu’s arm a hard yank, dragging him several steps forward.

“You’re such a pain,” he says, his hand lingering on the bend of Mingyu’s elbow even when Mingyu follows along without complaint.

The restaurant that Minghao had in mind is surprisingly busy for a chilly Friday afternoon and they end up crunched together at a small table in the corner, knees bumping together under the table. In spite of the warm air circulating through the room, Minghao draws the jacket tighter around his shoulders. It makes something hot and primal rise up from the pit of Mingyu’s stomach.

“What?” Minghao says suddenly, looking up at Mingyu with both eyebrows raised. Mingyu jolts, a flush rising on his face when he realizes he’s staring.

“Nothing,” he says, an unfamiliar rasp creeping into his voice. He clears his throat hard, leaning back in the seat and trying to shove all the ridiculous Alpha instincts out of his mind.

“You’re not getting sick, are you?” Minghao asks, leaning his elbows on the table with a frown on his face. “You’re all red.”

“No I’m fine,” Mingyu says, hoping that his face doesn’t get even more red from Minghao pointing it out.

“You sure?” Minghao asks, starting to shrug the coat off his shoulders.

Mingyu is far sadder than he should be to see Minghao pull his arms out of the sleeves and pass it over to him. He takes it reluctantly, draping it over the back of his chair and resisting the urge to sniff at the collar where it was resting against the back of Minghao’s neck.

He spends the full duration of their short meal stealing quick stares at Minghao, hoping not to be caught. He can’t help himself, studying the curve of Minghao’s neck and the way the dangling earring he’s wearing brushes against his jaw lightly.

It doesn’t take that long for Minghao to catch him, looking up at Mingyu as his eyes settle on the thin bones of his wrist for a moment too long. He lifts his hand, waving it in front of Mingyu’s face with a frown.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, eyebrows drawing close together. “You seem out of it.”

“M- maybe I should go lay down,” Mingyu agrees finally, shaking his head. He doesn’t feel sick, but if he doesn’t have an excuse to lock himself in his room away from Minghao for a few hours, there’s no telling what his stupid instincts will tell him to do.

Minghao nods, the corner of his lip trapped between his teeth, concern painted across his face. It makes Mingyu’s stomach turn for real, feeling sick and guilty for making him worry about nothing.

As soon as they pay, Minghao lurches up out of his seat to press the back of his hand against Mingyu’s forehead, eyebrows still crunched together. “I can drive home if you need me to.”

Mingyu shakes his head dumbly, wrapping his fingers loosely around Mingyu’s thin wrist, gingerly pulling it away.

He wants to press his mouth to the soft skin at the inside of Minghao’s wrist more than he’s wanted anything in the last year.

Minghao twists his wrist in Mingyu’s grasp, not pulling away but using it to tug him out of the chair, the other hand shooting out to steady Mingyu’s side like he’s scared he’s going to fall over.

Mingyu laughs, a single awkward bark falling out of his mouth. “I’m not gonna faint.”

“You sure?” Minghao says, his fingers curling into the knit fabric of Mingyu’s sweater.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, his voice still strained. “I can drive, it’s okay.”

Minghao scowls at him a little but before he can complain, Mingyu drapes his coat over Minghao’s shoulders once again. Minghao opens his mouth to complain but Mingyu shakes his head.

“I’m too warm already,” he says, fighting a smile when Minghao shrugs the jacket on his shoulders.

He doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but Minghao keeps a hand on Mingyu’s elbow like he’s scared Mingyu might topple over at any moment. Mingyu doesn’t have the heart to brush him off, even if it’s harder to concentrate on walking in a straight line like that.

Minghao shrugs the coat off when they’re back in the car and Mingyu cranks the heat just so some of the scent clinging to Minghao gets blown away from his face.

It’s a quick, quiet ride. Minghao keeps casting little worried looks across at Mingyu and Mingyu does his best to pretend he doesn’t notice.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” Minghao asks, trailing behind Mingyu while they walk up to the apartment. Mingyu laughs, a little more naturally this time, shaking his head.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he says, shaking his head. Minghao smiles, a little bit more relaxed now that Mingyu is apparently not acting quite as strange. There’s a little flush on his cheeks from the cool wind and for just a second his eyes drop to look at Mingyu’s mouth.

There’s no accounting for the impulse that makes Mingyu, standing one step above Minghao, even taller than usual, lean down and press his lips against the shape of Minghao’s smile, one hand coming to cup the side of his neck. He isn’t aware of himself even doing it until Minghao kisses him back, his head leaning to the side to find the right angle.

Mingyu can hear the surprised breath he pulls in and under his fingers, he can hear the hummingbird fast flutter of Minghao’s pulse. Minghao’s lips part, just enough for Mingyu’s tongue to slide over his lower lip.

Just as quick, Minghao whips back, his eyes round as coins, staring up at Mingyu. He stumbles a step back, almost falling off the stairs, flailing one arm out to catch himself on the railing.

“What are you doing?” Minghao says, his voice high and reedy.

“S- sorry,” Mingyu says, stumbling over his words. “I thought…”

“I thought you wanted to,” Mingyu says, his voice dropping to a low grumble.

Minghao’s hand tightens around the steel railing, his knuckles going white. His lips are still parted and if he didn’t look so shocked Mingyu would be tempted to kiss him again.

Rather than say anything else, Minghao just shakes his head, releasing his iron grip on the railing and taking another step down, away from Mingyu, looking like he might run.

“I… I did,” Minghao says, looking down at his feet rather than at Mingyu. “But we can’t.”


	9. off the record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It can't be a public thing," Minghao says, struggling to find the right words. Mingyu's brow furrows in confusion and Minghao shakes his head. "It just. If we're going to do… this. No one else can know about it."
> 
> "You don't wanna date me?" Mingyu asks. He's trying to put a brave face on it but Minghao can see the way the idea hurts him.

Minghao can't help the trembles rattling through his whole body, the wind still carving straight through his clothes and Mingyu staring at him with his lips parted in confusion pinning him to the spot. He'd do anything not to have to have this conversation, especially on the back of having such a good day with Mingyu, to begin with. It's obvious that his answer doesn't make sense to Mingyu and Minghao is seized by the sudden fear that someone is going to see them having this conversation, or worse, that someone saw them kissing on the stairs.

"We should go inside," he says, the shaking of his body creeping into his voice as well.

"I won't… we don't have to do it again," Mingyu says, holding his hands up in front of him, his voice a yelp.

"Inside," Minghao says, casting a glance over his shoulder before shoving Mingyu ahead of him when he still doesn't move.

By the time they're inside; shoes off, Mingyu's coat shed, sitting on the couch, Minghao wants to tell him no and leave it at that. But he can't help but feel like he owes Mingyu better than curling into his own protective shell and never talking about it again.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says, his voice high, hanging just on the edge of panic. "It's just I really like you, and you were wearing my coat all day! And you were looking at me and I thought you wanted to kiss so that's what I did!"

Minghao starts shaking his head halfway through Mingyu's babbling but lets him finish anyway, rubbing his palm over his face with a long sigh. "You can't… You can't do things like that."

"Oh," Mingyu says, popping like a pricked balloon, the tension flooding out of him in one long sigh. "I'm really sorry. I won't do it again."

It hurts far more than it should to see Mingyu so dejected but Minghao sucks in a heavy breath and wishes his hands would stop shaking, and reminds himself that this is all for the best.

“It’s okay,” Minghao says, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. Mingyu hovers in place, wringing his hands together.

“Um,” he says, nerves written plain as day on his face, looking at Minghao’s face then quickly away. “I just thought you, um, wanted me to.”

There’s no real answer Minghao can give to that. Not without lying plainly to Mingyu’s face or admitting that he’s wanted to kiss Mingyu for months. 

“Mingyu-ya,” he says, shaking his head and breathing out a sigh. “I’m… gonna take a walk.”

“You just… you said we _can’t_ ,” Mingyu says, looking at the floor while Minghao pushes himself up to the feet. “So I thought maybe that meant…”

Minghao stops, gripping the back of the couch and staring at the side of Mingyu’s face for a moment, lips parted. 

“That’s what I mean,” Minghao says, stepping into his shoes without bothering to put them on properly, shaking his head. He steps out the door without waiting or trying to explain further, bouncing his way down the steps two at a time.

**{* * *}**

It takes more time than it reasonably should for Minghao's brain to catch up with what he's doing— jogging through the cold wind and the sprinkling rain to Jun's apartment because he can't even begin to properly process the fact that Mingyu just kissed him.

Mingyu just kissed him and he told Mingyu not to do it again.

He slams his fist against the door much harder than he should, making the weak wood rattle against the metal hinges. He can't tell how much time passes with no one answering before he does it again, his heart pounding too loud in his ears for him to try and strain and listen for anyone inside.

For as long as he’s been thinking about it, the whole event feels surreal. It hurts more than expected having turned Mingyu down. The reality is that Minghao never really thought they’d reach this point. His greatest hope was that eventually his crush on Mingyu would just… go away on its own, not blow up in his face and ruin his friendship with Mingyu forever.

Minghao's stomach churns dangerously and he's struggling to suck air into his lungs when Jihoon opens the door, giving him a positively evil look.

"Jun's not here," he says, huffing a little sound when Minghao shoves past him anyway. He doesn't seem that offended, just a little sleepy and probably annoyed with Minghao barging in out of nowhere. But he pauses, probably taking the frantic state Minghao is in, standing stock still in the middle of the living room with his whole body shaking like a leaf. "Do you need to talk to him?"

"Y- yeah," Minghao says, taking a long moment to actually spit out the answer. He doesn't wait to hear whatever Jihoon has to say, kicking his shoes in a messy pile and just letting himself into Jun's room. Usually, the heavy sweet, flowery scent of it bothers Minghao but at the moment it's the only calming thing he can think of. He throws himself face down on Jun's bed, pulling the pillow against his face and squeezing his eyes shut.

His whole body is still trembling with adrenaline and panic, refusing to stop. He can't even explain to himself why; it's not like he hasn't wanted Mingyu to kiss him for months. From the living room, Minghao can hear Jihoon talking on the phone, probably demanding Jun come and deal with the keyed up Alpha that's suddenly in their apartment.

But when he leans his head in the room, his voice is low and soft. "Jun's on his way home."

"Sorry," Minghao croaks out, keeping his forehead pressed into Jun's pillow. Jihoon must shrug or do something else he can't see because it takes him a moment to answer.

"Not my problem," he says. He doesn't leave immediately, his fingers tapping at the frame of the door. "Do… do you need anything?"

Minghao shakes his head, pulling his face out of the pillow. He doesn't make an effort to smile but he does sit up, his breathing a little slower than before, the panicked hammering of his heart starting to relax. "I'm alright."

Jihoon raises an eyebrow like he doesn't think that's really true, but he doesn't push any harder, drifting back into his own room and leaving Minghao to flop over pathetically on Jun's bed.

It takes a few minutes, maybe ten, for Jun to come bursting through the front door. Minghao isn't really sure; the only thing he does is lay on his back and study the details of Jun's ceiling, too scared to check his phone.

"Xiao Hao?" Jun says, his voice pitched softer than usual as he comes through the door, hesitating like he's not sure Minghao won't just lunge at him. "What's up?"

Minghao waits until he's shut the door, still clinging Jun's pillow to his chest like a child in need of soothing. "Mingyu kissed me."

Jun blinks slowly three times before a smile spreads on his face. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Minghao says, rolling his eyes a little. "Why do you think I'm losing my mind?"

"Was he really bad at it?" Jun says, tossing his jacket to the floor and crossing the room to sit on the other side of the bed. There's a hint of a laugh in his voice, but his smile slowly fades when Minghao doesn't smile with him. "You didn't want him to?"

Minghao scowls, looking down at his knees. "It's not that. I can't… I can't do this whole thing again."

Jun heaves out a heavy sigh, crawling across the bed until he's seated next to Minghao, putting an arm around his shoulders. For a long moment, he's quiet, rubbing one hand up and down Minghao's shoulder.

"It's not the same thing," Jun says, after awhile, when Minghao isn't shaking anymore. "You know it isn't."

In spite of how certain Jun sounds, Minghao isn’t sure he’s right. “There’s no way to know that.”

“Mingyu-ya is a good person,” Jun says, rubbing the nape of Minghao’s neck gently. “I’m sure if you just told him…”

Minghao shakes his head, wiggling out of Jun’s grasp to climb off the bed and pace next to the bed instead. “I can't."

Jun looks up at him, crossing his legs and turning to face the side of the bed where Minghao is trying his best to wear a path in the floor. "I think he would understand if you explained things to him."

"It wouldn't change anything," Minghao says, squeezing his hand into a tight fist, nails digging lines into his palm. "It's not just about me. I don't want people to treat him different either."

Even though he doesn't look very convinced, Jun still nods his head, reaching out when Minghao walks by again and grabbing his wrist to stop him, patting the back of Minghao's hand.

"You should think about what you want," Jun says, his voice gentle but his fingers still tight around Minghao's wrist. “You can’t change what other people do.”

Minghao scowls, looking down at Jun’s fingers wrapped around his arm. He lets himself get pulled back onto the bed, shaking his arm free after a moment and heaving out a sigh.

“What I want, huh?” Minghao says, pursing his lips and glaring down at Jun’s bed rather than looking down at him directly. It’s been much easier up to this point to simply tell himself that Mingyu simply wasn’t an option at all— assuming that eventually either Mingyu will find someone else or his annoying crush will simply fade. He wasn't prepared to have a chance to want anything real with Mingyu.

"You're allowed to have good things too," Jun says, patting Minghao's shoulder gently. As much as Minghao wants to roll his eyes at Jun's faked wisdom, the words stick somewhere in the middle of his chest. Rather than answer, Minghao groans, flopping over onto his back and stretching his arms out to the sides, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'll think about it," he says, in no rush to leave Jun's bed and go face Mingyu once again. Jun laughs gently, leaning back against the pillow and nodding his head, sliding his phone out of his pocket. He doesn't chase Minghao out; stretching his legs out next to Minghao's head and tapping at the screen of his phone, probably texting Joshua or something, leaving Minghao to wrestle with his thoughts by himself.

**{* * *}**

It's late at night by the time Minghao finally finds the courage to go back home. He could sleep in Jun's bed if he wanted too; Jun owes him plenty for that already, but the thought of avoiding his problems doesn't sit right in Minghao's stomach.

As bad as having this conversation with Mingyu will be, the only thing worse would be to not have it at all.

The apartment is quiet when Minghao lets himself in, and for a second he has the faint hope that Mingyu is somewhere else and he'll have just a little more time to think things over before he has to ask Mingyu the question on his mind. But he only gets a few steps past the doorway before Mingyu's head pokes out of his room, looking equally relieved and tense.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming back," he says scratching the back of his head. There's a smile on his face but it's a weak one and Minghao's chest twists up into a painful knot.

"Sorry," he says, frowning and tugging at the hem of his sweater. Mingyu's coat is still draped over the couch where it was left before and Mingyu is staring like he's not sure if he should keep talking or retreat back into his room.

One corner of Minghao's mind whispers that he could leave things just like this... go lay face down in his bed and hope that they'll both just get over today with their friendship intact. But there's another, louder part, one that has a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jun.

_You're allowed to have good things too._

"Can we talk?" He asks, chewing the corner of his lip. "If you're not like, too tired."

"Okay," Mingyu says quietly. When he doesn't move still, Minghao just walks into his room, brushing past Mingyu to lean his hip against the desk, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. Mingyu turns to look at him, still hovering in place, hands gathered in front of him like he's not sure what to do with his body. "About what?"

"Sorry I freaked out before," Minghao says, a bitter smile twisting on his face. "I wasn't expecting it and I didn't react well."

"It's okay," Mingyu says, rushing through his words, holding his hands up. "I really promise I won't do it again!"

"Mingyu-ya," Minghao says, shaking his head to cut Mingyu off before he panics again. "It's fine. I wanted you to."

"You... what?" Mingyu asks, blinking his eyes rapidly. He has his lips slightly parted, eyes wide like he doesn't know how to process what he's hearing. It's cute even if it reminds Minghao just how much he might have screwed this up.

"I like you," Minghao says, looking down at his feet rather than directly at Mingyu. The confession sticks in the back of his teeth like taffy but he forces it out anyway. He can feel Mingyu staring at him still but he doesn't dare lift his head. "A lot. I wanted you to kiss me."

"Does that mean I can do it again?" Mingyu asks, tentative, inching a step forward.

Minghao so badly wants to say yes. He's burning for a chance to properly feel Mingyu's mouth on his. But if he does, they'll never get through this conversation.

"It can't be a public thing," Minghao says, struggling to find the right words. Mingyu's brow furrows in confusion and Minghao shakes his head. "It just. If we're going to do… this. No one else can know about it."

"You don't wanna date me?" Mingyu asks. He's trying to put a brave face on it but Minghao can see the way the idea hurts him.

"That's not it," Minghao says, too quickly, trying to wipe all the sadness off of Mingyu's face. "But letting other people know is a bad idea. It has to be just between us."

It's obvious from his expression that Mingyu doesn't quite understand, and Minghao isn't sure how to explain. Mingyu has no reason to fear the reaction of the rest of the world the way Minghao does. He still has plenty of reason to trust in the decency of other people.

He wants to tell Mingyu it's not because he's ashamed to be who he is or to be seen with him, but he doesn't know how to explain the fear that's still making his hands quiver and his heart pound frantically against his ribs like it's trying to escape.

"So, you'll date me if it's a secret?" Mingyu says deep lines worked into his brow as he thinks it over. He's standing in the middle of the room, arms limp at his sides. He looks strangely lost like that and before he can stop himself Minghao steps forward, reaching out, aching for some way to fix it.

But he doesn't have one, so he drops his arms and shakes his head.

"That's the only way," Minghao says, swallowing down all the other words that crowd their way into his mouth. Mingyu has a look on his face still like he’s not sure exactly how to take all of this and Minghao finds himself shifting nervously, caught between the urge to try and explain himself better and the need to escape before he somehow manages to make everything worse.

Above all that, he wants to kiss Mingyu again.

“Is it…” Mingyu hesitates, trailing off in the middle and rubbing the back of his neck. “Is it okay if I need to think about that?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, his whole body feeling disconnected from the world around him. He can’t exactly blame him for needing a little bit of time to think about it.

“We’re, um, okay right?” Mingyu asks, looking for all the world like he really doesn’t know the answer.

“Of course,” Minghao says, with as much conviction as he can muster. “We’re fine.”

He passes by Mingyu, reaching out and squeezing one of his hands, quick but tight, trying to comfort him just a little through the touch. Before the door shuts behind him, Minghao catches the briefest lift of a smile on his face.

**{* * *}**

As much as Mingyu was hoping for an easy answer to his feelings for Minghao, that seems all but impossible now. He wasn’t thinking very hard before he kissed Minghao— he wasn’t thinking about anything at all.

It was an instinct but not the ancient Alpha kind that makes him annoyed when Seokmin steals his pens. He did it because in the moment it felt like the right thing to do, the natural path his relationship with Minghao was supposed to take. And for too short a second after, it _was_ the right thing to do and Minghao kissed him too.

Now Mingyu is just left even more confused, trying to understand exactly what it means that Minghao wants this; whatever it’s supposed to be, to be a secret. He didn’t explain, and at the time he seemed so desperately set that Mingyu was scared to push him for details.

They haven’t quite been avoiding each other in the two days since, but things have been strange. Not the kind of strange they were when Minghao came out and Mingyu, in Wonwoo’s words, acted like a dick about it. This is a new strangeness; knowing that maybe Minghao likes him just as much. Their conversations start and stop in odd places and Mingyu has a hard time focusing without letting his attention wander to the natural pout of Minghao’s lips, or a strand of hair brushed over his eyes, or the particular way the light is making the small mole on his throat stand out.

But he still doesn’t have an answer for the glaring problem right in front of him: is he willing to keep whatever he might be with Minghao a secret?

Finally, Mingyu is so desperate to get away from thinking about it that he sets up camp in the library on Sunday when the only person working is Jihoon. It’s when he and Minghao usually lay around on the couch and watch TV but Mingyu isn’t sure he could make it through all of that without either losing his mind or kissing Minghao once again. He’s almost looking forward to having a few hours to himself when Jun drops into the seat across from him, a toothy smile on his face.

“I thought I smelled you when I walked in,” Jun says, giggling, setting his bag on the table and pulling open the zipper to rustle through the mess of papers inside. “Usually I just come to bother Jihoonie.”

“Hi, hyung,” Mingyu says, ducking his head forward just a little.

“Aren’t you usually hanging out with Hao Hao on Sunday?” Jun asks, sitting up and leaning his head to the side.

“Sometimes,” Mingyu says, the smile on his face strained. Jun seems to recognize it, lifting his eyebrows until they vanish under his dark bangs.

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning his elbows on the table.

“N- nothing,” Mingyu says, shaking his head too hard.

“I can tell he’s freaking out still,” Jun says, and even though there’s a smile on his face some part of Mingyu’s mind is screaming _danger_. “Did you guys talk things out?”

“Um,” Mingyu says, his mind drawing a blank, trying to think of a way to get out of answering. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it.”

“You’re not supposed to talk about Minghao with me?” Jun asks, and this time there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You can’t tell him I said anything,” Mingyu says, dropping his voice to a mumble, aware of exactly how miserable and pathetic he sounds. Jun nods his head, quick and eager, leaning forward across the table.

“I, ah, kissed him. The other day,” Mingyu says, glancing around to make sure there’s no one else listening. The library is deserted, except for Jihoon dozing off at the front desk. Jun’s eyes go wide and bright, like a child being offered a new toy.

“Yeah, he told me about it,” Jun says, a vibrant smile on his face.

“W- what?” Mingyu probably shouldn’t be so surprised.

“It’s been so cute, y’know. I can’t remember the last time Hao Hao had such a big crush on anybody,” Jun says, grinning still. “But I’m glad one of you finally made a move.”

Mingyu isn’t sure what to do with any of that information, so he just pushes forward instead. “He doesn’t want anybody else to know.”

“That you kissed?” Jun asks, his brows drawing together. “Are you bad at it?”

“No!” Mingyu says, too loud. His face flushes and he slumps over in his seat. “He said that if we’re gonna… date, or anything, that no one else can know about it.”

Jun doesn’t look surprised the way Mingyu was expecting. Instead, his face crumples around a sad expression, shaking his head. “I should’ve expected that.”

“He didn’t say why,” Mingyu says, staring down at his books rather than at Jun. “Just that it had to be a secret.”

“Ah, Minghao,” Jun says, shaking his head once more. He reaches out, patting Mingyu gently on the arm. “It’s not anything you did.”

“You know why?” Mingyu asks though he shouldn’t be so surprised to hear it. There probably isn’t much that Jun and Minghao don’t know about each other already.

“I have some idea,” Jun says, tapping one finger against his cheek. “Before you ask, I can’t tell you about it.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, pulling his arms close to his chest.

“It’s his business, and if he found out I told you he might be mad at me for real,” Jun says. There’s a hint of a smile on his face but it’s still smaller and sadder than before. “People… have been hard on Minghao in the past.”

“Because he’s gay?” Mingyu says, leaning in closer even though there’s no one around to overhear.

“It’s not exactly that simple,” Jun says, shaking his head. “Our Hao Hao… he’s softer than he seems. He holds onto being hurt for a long time.”

A dozen questions jump into Mingyu’s head all at once, rushing around so fast that he can’t pick even one to ask. Jun smiles, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “It’s not up to me, but I want to see someone make him happy.”

“I do too,” Mingyu says, chewing the inside of his cheek a little. He’s never been very good at keeping secrets, but it soothes some of his anxiety to know that _he_ isn’t the thing Minghao doesn’t want people to know about. Or at least, he’s not the only thing.

“And Mingyu-ya,” Jun says, his smile taking on a slight edge. “I know I’m not a threat to you, but if you do this, please don’t break his heart. I don’t think he’ll give anyone else a chance if you do.”

“I- I won’t,” Mingyu says, thrown off by the frank tone of Jun’s voice. “I really… care about him a lot.”

Jun nods his head, giving Mingyu’s arm another little pat. “I do too.”

**{* * *}**

It's such a shock to his system to wake up from his impromptu nap on the couch, the book he was reading still spread out on his chest, to find Mingyu's smiling face hovering in his vision that Minghao thinks he's simply dreaming at first. It doesn't last more than a moment or two when he blinks the last bits of sleep out of his eyes, but still, Minghao reaches one hand up to pat Mingyu's cheek, checking if he's really there or not.

He's a little sad to find out that it's not a dream because suddenly the idea of Mingyu kissing him slowly awake is so tempting the only thing he wants to do is go back to sleep, not confront the reality where his relationship with Mingyu only gets more complicated by the day.

"Sorry," Mingyu says, uncommonly sheepish. Minghao's hand is still on his cheek and the tease of a smile on Mingyu's face vanishes when Minghao pulls it quickly back. "I didn't realize you were sleeping."

"It's fine," Minghao says, a little croak in his voice.

It's later than Minghao expects, the late autumn sun already sunken out of the sky and the rest of the room is growing darker to match. Mingyu is still close, no longer smiling, and when Minghao sits up, knocking the book into his lap, Mingyu doesn't flinch away. It's been two days since they kissed but Minghao can't honestly say he's thought about anything else since then. From the way Mingyu's eyes drop to his lips and then quickly flit away, Minghao assumes he's not the only one.

"Did you…" Mingyu starts, trailing off, pink starting to creep into his cheeks. "Did you mean what you said before?"

"What did I say?" Minghao says, scrubbing the back of his hand against his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away and avoid the intensity of Mingyu's gaze at the same time.

"You said you like me," Mingyu says, his cheeks growing steadily more and redder. "The other day. Did you mean it?"

For a long moment, Minghao's head empties of any productive thought, leaving him staring blankly up at Mingyu, trying to get his brain to process anything at all.

"Yes," he says, just as Mingyu starts to deflate. "I wouldn't lie about something like that."

Somehow, before he can understand, he ends up with a lap full of Mingyu's overly long limbs, yanked into a kiss that's sure to leave his lips bruised. The part of his brain that has a carefully organized list of reasons why kissing Kim Mingyu isn't allowed must still be asleep, because he kisses back with the same enthusiasm, curling his fingers around the back of Mingyu's neck to prevent him from pulling away.

They stay like that for a long time— too long. Tongues curling together, nipping playfully at each other's lips. Minghao kisses Mingyu like there's something to be won at the end and when they finally break apart, Mingyu tips his forehead against Minghao's, their heavy breaths mingling together in the air.

"Um," Minghao says, fingers still splayed over the nape of Mingyu's neck, resting at the top of his spine where instincts insist he's the most vulnerable. He's trying to remind himself _why_ this is something he won't let himself have but it's hard while Mingyu is taking up all of his personal space, body pressed warm and too-willing against Minghao's.

"Sorry," Mingyu says, this time with the toothy smile that Minghao is familiar with. He plants another kiss against Minghao's lips, this one soft and tender, wreaking havoc with Minghao's already unsteady heart. "I wanted to just, ah, make sure first."

"Make sure?" Minghao repeats, wondering where all his understanding of the Korean language suddenly went.

Pressing his face into the side of Minghao's neck, Mingyu giggles. "I didn't wanna kiss you again if you don't actually like me."

As much as Minghao wants to understand what Mingyu is trying to say, the heat of his breath is blowing over Minghao's neck with each quick inhale and he's forced to push Mingyu back by the shoulders, goosebumps tickling over his skin.

Even sitting, Mingyu is still taller, and Minghao finds himself looking up into the other Alpha's face. The room around them is fully dark now, but Mingyu is close enough for Minghao to make out his kiss-swollen lips and the dark pits of his expanded pupils.

"Use your words," Minghao says, his heart hardly in the scolding.

"It's fine with me," Mingyu says, almost at the same time. "If you want things to be a secret."

"What?" Minghao says, this time more in wonder than confusion.

"I thought about it," Mingyu says, his fingers running up the curve of Minghao's neck, his canine smile bright in the darkness. "I- I wanna do it. If you do."

"Oh," Minghao says, the full weight of it settling heavy in the middle of his chest. "You do?"

"Yeah," Mingyu says, giggling a little. "Do you?"

In spite of all his denials to Seokmin Minghao hasn't wanted anything else so fiercely for years.

"Yeah," he says, grinning himself, pulling Mingyu in for another long kiss.

**{* * *}**

It occurs to Mingyu a few days later that he's never dated anyone in secret before and that most of the things that he's used to doing are off the table still. He can't take Minghao out on dates, or get away with being any more affectionate with him in public. Minghao is wary and cautious by nature, which means Mingyu scent marking him before he goes to class is probably out of the question as well.

At first, the knowledge of all the things he can't so still makes Mingyu feel a little deflated. He's spent the past few weeks building an image in his head of what it would be like to date Minghao; holding his hand when they're out shopping or being able to steal kisses from him at lunch to see the annoyed-but-still-fond look on his face. He wasn't lying when he said he was okay with keeping their relationship between them, but it's different.

But that only lasts until Mingyu decides to himself that he'll just have to find other ways to enjoy himself with Minghao. Which means, when he cuts out of class early on a Friday afternoon, it's with a purpose in mind. Minghao is practicing Soonyoung's new routine, which gives him some time to drive over to the market by himself and pick up two bottles of red wine that he's pretty sure Minghao will like and decide on something to make them for dinner.

If he can't take Minghao out on dates, he might as well bring dates back to Minghao.

When Minghao gets home from practice, smelling spicy-sweet with pheromones from working out, Mingyu is putting the last touches on his brilliant plan. He has all the lights in their living room turned off, the room softly lit with a string of fairy lights he found in the closet wrapped around a pair of empty wine bottles rescued from their recycling bin. Mingyu abandons standing over the stove to wrap his arms around Minghao from behind, making him jump a little in surprise.

He leans back into the contact after a moment, muscles still a little tense. It makes Mingyu giggle, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against the top of Minghao's head. "Sorry."

"I'm not used to it yet," Minghao says and Mingyu can hear the smile creeping into his voice. "What's all this?"

He's glad Minghao can't see the way his whole face turns pink. "It's, um, a date."

For a moment, Minghao doesn't say anything and Mingyu is worried he's done something wrong putting all this together. He's seen the way Minghao gets invested in romance movies, even when he tries claiming that he doesn't care at all. And he's heard Jun call Minghao a romantic before, though Mingyu had assumed it meant something different at the time.

"Really?" Minghao says finally, sounding equal parts amused and amazed.

"Yeah," Mingyu says, lifting his face out of Minghao's hair and chewing his lip nervously. Minghao hasn't tried to move out of the hug yet, leaving Mingyu to wonder still if he's done the right thing or not. 

"Dinner and a movie, y'know? I know we do that all the time but I tried to make it more, um, romantic. I know you wanted us not to go out so I thought this would be fun instead."

He can hear himself rambling nervously but he's still powerless to make himself stop. It doesn't help when Minghao starts giggling, his whole body pitching forward slightly the way it does when Minghao finds something _really_ funny. Mingyu huffs, trying to cover his stinging pride, letting go of Minghao now.

"Sorry, it was stupid," he says, scratching the back of his head. Minghao turns around so quickly that Mingyu takes a half step back in surprise. There's a bright smile on his face and he catches Mingyu's sweater in one hand, pulling him in closer and shaking his head.

"It's not stupid," he says, holding Mingyu even when he doesn't try to escape. His expression is softer than Mingyu expects, and even in the low light, he can make out the pink splashed on both of his cheeks. "I just wasn't expecting anything like this."

"So you like it?" Mingyu asks, his smile growing when Minghao rolls his eyes. He leans down, pressing his lips against Minghao's, just because he can. Minghao chuckles from the back of his throat, kissing Mingyu for a moment in return before nudging him back gently.

"You're gonna burn the food," he scolds, shaking his head. "And I need a shower."

Mingyu would like to argue that he definitely _doesn't_ , because he already smells infinitely better than Mingyu's cooking, but he decides to keep that thought to himself for now. He hasn't admitted that he stole one of Minghao's shirts during his rut, even though he returned it eventually, and he's not sure he's ever going to be able to without dying of utter mortification. 

Still, he whines when Minghao steps away, grabbing his arm and pulling him close again.

"What now?" Minghao says, trying to sound annoyed and failing badly.

"I want another kiss," Mingyu says, grinning.

Minghao sighs, his fingers finding the back of Mingyu's neck, pulling him into another kiss. It makes Mingyu giggle, happy to be indulged. Minghao is right about one thing; if it were up to Mingyu, they would stand there and kiss until the food was far past saving. But Minghao is much more focused and this time when he pulls away he gives Mingyu a shove toward the kitchen.

"Don't ruin dinner," he says, laughing. Mingyu goes back to the food, making a show of his reluctance, still grinning when the door to the bathroom shuts behind Minghao.

**{* * *}**

Minghao lingers a little longer than he needs to in the shower, hoping the frantic pounding of his heart will calm down on its own. It’s a much sweeter feeling than he’s used to, the feeling drama protagonists are always going on and on about.

It’s foreign to him in the best possible way. Even though the two of them agreed to date, Minghao wasn’t expecting a _date._ Perhaps that’s just a sign that he’s underestimated Mingyu.

When he steps out of the shower he still hasn’t managed to wipe the silly smile off of his face, wrapping a towel around his waist to go find clean clothes.

“Food’s ready,” Mingyu calls as soon as the door to their tiny bathroom open and Minghao pauses, shaking his head with a laugh.

“I’m naked,” he says, grinning when Mingyu yelps, leaning around the kitchen doorway to stare at him. Minghao raises his eyebrows, holding the towel with one hand, using the other to push his damp bangs out of his face.

“Y- yes you are,” Mingyu says, his cheeks turning bright pink.

As mean as it is, Minghao smirks, leaning his head slightly to the side. “Do you want me to eat like this?”

For a moment, Mingyu doesn’t say anything, staring until Minghao starts to feel a little shy about his showing off. Finally, Mingyu gives himself a little shake, pulling himself back to the present.

“You can get dressed,” he says, his voice an octave higher than usual. Minghao laughs, kicking the door to his room shut behind him and hanging the towel on the back of the door before digging clean clothes out of his drawers. He can hear Mingyu in the living room, clattering dishes and humming to himself.

Minghao leans his shoulder on the wall when he comes out, watching Mingyu finish putting plates down. He turns after a minute, a bright smile lighting up on his face.

“Feel better?” He asks. Minghao nods, climbing over the back of the couch to sit down, bouncing slightly on the cushion.

“Much,” he says, leaning his head to the side.

“You smell good after you practice,” Mingyu says without seeming to think about it. Minghao chokes on air, blinking, not sure if he should be laughing or not. Mingyu pauses, staring at him, his eyes going round.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he says, hanging his head. Minghao giggles, grabbing hold of Mingyu’s arm and pulling him onto the couch as well, hands sliding up his shoulders.

“But you mean it?” Minghao asks, hooking his hands behind Mingyu’s neck and pulling him in closer. Mingyu’s face flushes pink but he nods, letting himself be drawn in.

“Yeah,” he says, the bridge of his nose sliding up the side of Minghao’s neck. Minghao can feel the tickle of Mingyu’s breath against his skin and he can’t help but shiver a little. Mingyu nuzzles in closer, leaning his weight on one hand, the other resting on Minghao’s side.

“I don’t smell bad now, do I?” Minghao asks, his voice coming out a little bit strained. He can feel Mingyu grinning, his lips brushing the edge of Minghao’s chin, just short of the sensitive glands at the base of his jaw.

“No.” Mingyu’s hand gets tighter around his side, kissing the bottom of his jaw softly. “You smell really nice.”

Minghao’s nails dig into the back of Mingyu’s neck, his breath coming out in a hard sigh. It’s all he can do to keep himself from. yanking Mingyu into a kiss and ignoring the date he set up entirely. But Mingyu went through all the effort and it seems a shame to waste it, even if it is on scent marking and making out.

With a reluctant whine, he pushes Mingyu back gently, clearing his throat. “Food’s gonna get cold.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, blinking his eyes, licking his lips. “Right.”

Minghao grins, pressing a quick kiss to Mingyu’s cheek, sitting up with a laugh. “You can lay all over me after we eat.”

“Really?” Mingyu says, pulling his own plate into his lap with a giggle. “During the whole movie?”

“Sure,” Minghao says, shaking his head. “Why not?”

The answer seems to take Mingyu by surprise but he grins, leaning closer to Minghao even while he digs into his food. Minghao laughs, bumping his shoulder back against Mingyu’s.

“Hey,” he says, glancing over at Mingyu then around the decorated room, a smile on his face.

“Hmm?” Mingyu hums, looking up from his food with a blink. Minghao grins, leaning forward to kiss him quickly, soft and chaste.

“Thank you for this,” Minghao says, ducking his head to hide the heat in his cheeks. “It’s really nice.”

Mingyu perks up, a grin on his face that makes Minghao’s heart jump in his chest.

For once, he doesn’t mind how far gone he is when it comes to making Mingyu happy.


	10. reaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I go home?” Minghao asks though the discomfort on his face is entirely manufactured. It isn’t hard to tell that he’s happy to see Jun find someone like Joshua, even if he doesn’t want to admit it to anyone directly.
> 
> It’s nice to see, even if it makes Mingyu feel a little lonely. He and Minghao are still something fragile and new, at least as far as dating is concerned, and he wishes they could share the same reassuring touches that Jun and Joshua do, linking their fingers together once again when they go inside.

Minghao isn’t expecting Jun to burst into their apartment on a Thursday afternoon with a fairly manic look on his face. If he was, he wouldn’t be studying with Mingyu’s head in his lap, fingers stroking through his hair at an even rhythm.

As soon as the door swings open he jolts, shoving Mingyu away like he’s scared of being caught by a snooping parent. Jun doesn’t seem to notice it at all, throwing himself on the couch over top of them both.

“My life is over,” he says, face down, his face buried in Minghao’s thigh where Mingyu’s head was only moments ago. One of his elbows is digging into Minghao’s leg and his knees are draped across Mingyu’s lap, taking up as much space as possible with his lanky body.

Mingyu blinks, looking confused, but Minghao just sighs, setting his book to the side.

“What’s wrong?” He says, rolling his eyes when Jun just groans in despair, refusing to lift his head up.

“Is everything okay, Jun-hyung?” Mingyu asks, his voice tentative.

“Love is an impossible emotion,” Jun says, his voice slightly muffled still.

“Oh,” Mingyu says, fighting back a smile.

“Did you screw things up already?” Minghao asks, petting the back of Jun’s head in spite of the caustic tone of his voice. Jun shakes his head, finally turning his face to the side so his cheek is resting on Minghao’s leg rather than the sharp point of his chin.

“He wants me to meet his friends,” Jun says, sighing out a heavy breath.

“What’s so impossible about that?” Minghao asks, rolling his eyes. “Are you that scared of people?”

“What am I gonna do if they hate me and tell him to break up with me?” Jun asks, his voice getting faster as he continues speaking.

“Tell him not to break up with you,” Minghao says, smiling a little when Jun finally looks up at him, pushing his lower lip out in a pout.

“You’re no help,” Jun says, sitting up only to flip over and drape himself over Mingyu’s lap instead. “Mingyu-ya, now that we’re practically family you have to help me.”

“We’re family?” Mingyu asks, sounding confused and entertained.

“Since you and Xiao Hao are dating now,” Jun says, smiling a little for the first time since he burst in. “That makes us like brothers-in-law.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly…” Mingyu starts, then glances over at Minghao, his eyes bright with concern.

“How do you know about that, exactly?” Minghao says, prodding at Jun’s side, though he’s hardly surprised. Jun’s smile gets wider, shaking his head.

“I’ve been waiting for this for weeks,” Jun says, swatting Minghao’s hand away. “You should let everyone know so we can throw you a big party.”

“No,” Minghao says, sinking back into his seat with a roll of his eyes. “And you better not tell anyone either.”

Jun’s eyes lift into happy curves for a moment, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. Minghao doesn’t press the matter any further— there’s no need to. If he can trust anybody to understand why he wants to keep his life private it’s Jun.

“Meeting Joshua-hyung’s friends sounds nice,” Mingyu pipes up, obviously searching for something positive to say. Jun blinks twice, shooting upright and turning to face Mingyu, a grin on his face.

“You think so?” He asks, and the sudden brightness of his tone sends alarm bells ringing in Minghao’s head.

“Sure,” Mingyu says, going along too easily. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“You should come,” Jun says, ignoring Mingyu’s words entirely.

“No,” Minghao says, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I’m not asking you,” Jun says as if he doesn’t obviously mean both of them. “Mingyu-ya, you should come to the party with me tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, a confused frown on his face. “I’m not sure…”

“You said it sounds fun,” Jun says. Minghao laments how trapped Mingyu is already. “You can bring Hao Hao along with you.”

“Is that what you came over here for?” Minghao asks, shaking his head. Jun doesn’t admit it but Minghao can see the sparkle in his eyes.

It doesn’t matter— he has too hard a time telling Jun _no_.

“Fine,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes for Mingyu’s benefit.

“Yay,” Jun says, his voice sing-songing. “And if his friends are mean you’ll fight them for me, right?”

“I’m not doing that,” Minghao says but he can’t stop himself from smiling anyway. Jun settles in a little more comfortably, apparently ignorant to the fact that he’s still sitting in between the two of them.

“What’re you working on?” He says, leaning his chin on Minghao’s shoulder when Minghao finally leans over and picks his book up again.

“Art history,” Minghao says, glancing over at Mingyu but relaxing when he sees a fond smile on Mingyu’s face, looking back at his own notes. There’s no real reason to rush Jun out the door, so Minghao lets him nuzzle in against his shoulder, flipping through his phone while the two of them study.

**{* * *}**

In spite of Jun’s freaking out the day before, the party itself doesn’t seem to be anything more than the standard affair. It’s at the frat that Joshua’s friend is apparently a part of and there are people spilling outside the doors and hanging around the porch in spite of the fact that it’s too cold for that.

Mingyu doesn’t have Minghao’s hand in his, even though he can’t help but wish he did, watching Jun and Joshua walk with their fingers laced together. It’s hard to tell if it’s that or something else that’s making Minghao so tense; he’s one step behind the two of them with his body drawn into a tight line, watching the half-drunken people they pass with an air of suspicion.

It makes Mingyu wish even more that he could reach out and squeeze Minghao’s hand, or rub the back of his neck, anything to get some of the tension to bleed out of his frame. But he knows that’ll only make Minghao more likely to snap, so he forces himself to keep his distance. Jun spares a glance back at him before they reach the door and rolls his eyes, reaching out to give the front of Minghao’s silky shirt a playful tug.

“You don’t have to have that look on your face already,” he says, giggling a little when Minghao’s scowl only gets deeper. Mingyu isn’t sure if Jun’s previous panic rubbed off on Minghao or if his attitude is due to something else entirely and he’s not certain asking would be the best idea either.

“Done being nervous already?” Minghao asks, raising an eyebrow. Jun’s smile doesn’t drop off his face but he does wrinkle his nose just a little. Next, to him, Joshua looks over his shoulder, hiding a laugh behind his hand.

“So he did drag you along because he was scared?” He asks, his smile getting wider when Minghao nods his head. “I told you, everyone is gonna love you.”

The second part he aims at Jun with a fond smile and a quick pinch to the other Omega’s cheek. Jun blushes, just enough for the color to be noticed, turning his face toward Joshua’s hand like he might nip at his palm. He doesn’t— instead, he presses a quick kiss to it before Joshua pulls his hand back, both of them smiling a little shyly.

“Can I go home?” Minghao asks though the discomfort on his face is entirely manufactured. It isn’t hard to tell that he’s happy to see Jun find someone like Joshua, even if he doesn’t want to admit it to anyone directly.

It’s nice to see, even if it makes Mingyu feel a little lonely. He and Minghao are still something fragile and new, at least as far as dating is concerned, and he wishes they could share the same reassuring touches that Jun and Joshua do, linking their fingers together once again when they go inside.

“Are you alright?” Mingyu asks, hovering close enough to Minghao to mumble the question but not so much that he’s invading his space entirely. It’s hard to judge; they’ve been close for so long already that the lines of what’s normal to outsiders are blurry.

“I just don’t like these kinds of parties,” Minghao says, his voice low as well, glancing back at Mingyu. “It’s a bunch of drunk, entitled Alphas all under one roof.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t know exactly how to respond but he smiles. “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

Minghao lifts one of his shoulders but doesn’t seem convinced, his mouth still set in a hard line while he follows after Jun. Mingyu does his best to make sure he isn’t following too close, stuffing his hands in his pockets to try and quell the urge to touch Minghao.

Joshua’s friends are easy to find; gathered loosely together in the living room. There’s a pair of Alphas; one broad all over with doe eyes and an easy air around him named Seungcheol and the other with long hair that Mingyu can’t help but think he’s the prettiest person he’s ever seen. The third is a Beta; Seungcheol’s cousin Hansol, taller and lankier, a smile stretched wide over his face.

The pretty Alpha breaks off from the other two to pull Joshua into a hug, giggling into the crook of his neck. “Shua, I thought I’d never get to see you again.”

Joshua laughs, patting the pretty Alpha on the back and grinning, waving at the other two.

“Sorry, Jeonghan,” he says, though he doesn’t sound entirely contrite. Jeonghan releases him from the hug with a pout on his face, turning to look Jun up and down.

“You’re the one he’s dating now, right?” He asks, an unexpected sharpness to his voice. Jun seems surprised as well, his face flushing a little before he nods his head.

But Jun must pass whatever evaluation Jeonghan is putting him through because it’s only a moment before he smiles, nodding his head. “It’s nice to finally get to meet you, then.”

Jun’s face lifts in a smile and Joshua hooks an arm around his waist. It’s enough to make Minghao finally relax— when the rest of them get introduced he even has a smile on his face that gets a little bigger when Seungcheol puts drinks in all of their hands and Hansol starts asking him what photographers he likes, nodding along while Minghao talks about lighting and composition.

It’s nice to see, even if Mingyu can’t quite let go of his petty jealousy. It isn’t like Minghao doesn’t already _know_ all of his friends, but Jun is still the only one who knows they’re dating. Minghao’s reluctance to share even extends to Seokmin, it seems, though it probably won’t take that long for him to put two and two together.

Jun and Joshua get dragged off by Jeonghan to be on his team in some party game or another and with Minghao still talking to Hansol, Mingyu is left feeling something like a third wheel.

He’s doing his best not to let it get to him; drifting off into another room where a group of Alphas are loudly playing one of those racing games that Wonwoo and Jihoon are always kicking his ass at, jostling each other and shouting. Mingyu sticks to the edges, watching the game and sipping his drink, contemplating how pathetic it would be to slink off home early.

It’s only maybe ten minutes before Minghao finds him; enough time for Mingyu to drain his drink and find another but not really anything else.

“Hey,” Minghao says, leaning on the wall next to Mingyu, close due to the lack of breathing space in the room already. Mingyu smiles, fingers going a little tighter around the cup in his hand.

Maybe it’s only because Minghao specifically requested they keep their relationship a secret that it seems so impossible. As far as Mingyu knows, no one ever suspected anything out of the ordinary about their friendship before, except that they were closer than most Alphas. But now it seems like everything is going to give the secret away and the last thing Mingyu wants to do is disappoint Minghao.

“Hansol-ah seems nice,” he says, turning so he’s not just facing Minghao, scanning his eyes over the crowd. Minghao hums but the sound is a little unsteady like it’s stuck in the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” Minghao says after a moment, shaking his head with a little laugh. “I know you don’t go to a lot of parties. I shouldn’t have let Jun-ge drag you along.”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says, maybe just a shade too quickly. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself.”

Minghao laughs, his teeth bright in the low light of the room, leaning his head forward. “You don’t know what to do at parties?”

“Not really,” Mingyu says, his cheeks burning indignantly. Minghao’s smile gets brighter, shaking his head.

“You’re supposed to get drunk and dance with people,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. “Or stick your tongue down someone’s throat in the bathroom.”

Mingyu isn’t sure if that’s supposed to be an offer or not and for a long, hesitant moment he stands there and stares down at Minghao, face getting steadily redder.

“Just relax, Mingyu-ya,” Minghao says, but his eyes linger on Mingyu’s lips for a moment before he looks away. Mingyu swallows, hoping Minghao doesn’t notice it, glancing away and curling his fingers tighter around his drink.

“Easy for you to say,” he says, his voice a little lower than before. No one else seems to be paying attention to them, but he’s still nervous about being overheard. “I’m not used to all this.”

Minghao’s eyes flick around the room for one quick moment before reaching out and squeezing Mingyu’s free hand once, letting it go right away.

“I’m not either,” Minghao says, the laughter fading out of his voice. “Just don’t over think it.”

“I’ll try,” Mingyu says, leaning in closer than he means to— close enough that their breaths have started to mingle. But Minghao doesn’t jerk away, pushing his fingers back through his hair instead.

He opens his mouth to say something else but a hand grabs the top of his arm. Mingyu can see the tension that ripples through his whole frame, turning with his teeth set into a hard line only to be faced with Jun still holding onto his arm.

“I’m borrowing him,” Jun says, a fragile smile on his face, looking up at Mingyu. Minghao raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue, brushing Jun’s hand off but nodding him ahead. Jun walks toward the front door and as he goes by Minghao’s fingers brush the inside of his wrist, stroking the delicate skin there gently for just a moment before he vanishes into the crowd behind Jun, leaving Mingyu standing by himself once again.

**{* * *}**

It isn’t very hard to tell that Jun is freaking out, even if Minghao isn’t sure exactly why. He doesn’t say anything until they’re outside, even if it’s too cold to be standing so far away from the house in a loose fitted shirt and jeans with holes all along the thighs.

“What’s going on?” Minghao asks, cocking an eyebrow upward when Jun finally stops underneath a nearby tree, his shoulders slumped inward, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Jun doesn't answer for a moment, looking at the house with people still milling around outside without saying anything. Minghao rolls his eyes, rubbing his hands over his exposed forearms.

"Ge-ge c'mon, it's cold," he says, frowning a little more. Jun almost smiles a little more light in his expression.

"Sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I think I um, saw someone I know."

"You know a lot of people," Minghao says, trying to temper the annoyed sharpness in his tone. There's no reason to be so frustrated with Jun except for the fact that it's cold and he wishes he could be inside kissing Mingyu in some dark corner.

He can't have the latter, anyway, and that's hardly Jun's fault.

"No, I mean," Jun says, shaking his head and lifting both of his eyebrows suggestively. "Someone I know."

"Someone you slept with," Minghao says, filling in the blanks this time. Jun nods, chewing the corner of his lip.

"I thought that didn't bother you," Minghao says, leaning his shoulder against the hard trunk of the tree.

"Usually it doesn't matter," Jun says, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's not like I really talked to Joshua about it."

"You're worried he's going to judge you?" Minghao asks, tilting his head to the side. 

"No," Jun says, leaning on the tree next to Minghao, close enough to share a little body heat. "I don’t know. I guess."

"Well," Minghao says, not exactly sure how to answer that concern. "Are you sure you know this person?"

"It's kinda hard to be sure," Jun says, chuckling just a little. "I don't keep a mental list of everyone I've hooked up with the way that you do."

"That's because you don't have to," Minghao grumbles, shaking his head.

"I really like him," Jun says, taking Minghao a little by surprise. It's not as if he didn't know that Jun's feelings had to be strong enough to compel him to give up his happily unattached lifestyle but it's still the first time Jun has said much of anything about it.

"You should just talk to him about it," Minghao says, shaking his head. "Maybe not here and now but…"

"I shouldn't have to hear this from you," Jun says, but he's smiling wider than before. "You, of all people. Telling me to talk about my feelings."

Minghao snorts, leaning his head back a little, unable to help himself. Jun certainly has a point there— Minghao is hardly an example of open communication.

“Do you think it’d bother him?” Minghao says, letting Jun lean into him without complaint. Realistically they can only be gone for so long before someone wonders where they’re at, but getting caught talking to Jun in the cold it low on Minghao’s list of worries.

Jun glances down at his feet, not quite frowning, his lips pressed into a straight line instead. “I didn’t really think about it.”

Minghao nods slowly, staying quiet for a moment. Jun laughs, leaning his head against Minghao’s shoulder and grinning, taking him by surprise.

“You really are the worst person to ask about this,” he says, laugh lines wrinkling the corners of his eyes. Minghao can’t help but chuckle as well, shaking his head.

“If he makes you feel bad about it he’s shitty anyway,” Minghao says, elbowing Jun away when he lunges for a hug. “If you wanna be a huge slut that’s no one’s business but yours.”

“Are you gonna beat up his friends if they’re mean to me?” Jun asks, grinning, still holding his arms out in an attempt to catch Minghao. Minghao squirms out of his reach, holding Jun at arm’s length.

“Absolutely not. That Seungcheol guy is built like a tank,” Minghao says. Jun laughs, finally dropping his arms, prompting Minghao to warily let go of his shoulders.

“I’m surprised he’s not on _your_ hook up list,” Jun says, tossing his arm around Minghao’s shoulders. “Isn’t that like, your thing?”

“Shut up,” Minghao says, the tips of his ears heating up. It goes without saying, of course, that no matter how hot he is Minghao’s chances with anybody aren’t really that simple.

“I won’t tell Mingyu you think he’s sexy,” Jun says sagely, steering Minghao back inside.

“How nice of you,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes and fighting the urge to smile.

**{* * *}**

Sitting in Seokmin's apartment to study isn't out of the ordinary for Minghao's Friday afternoons, though usually, it's just him and Seokmin since Mingyu usually works on Friday.

Today he isn’t and he's sitting next to Minghao, weight casually draped against his side, sighing dramatically as he looks over his notes. Minghao fights the urge to smile, or ruffle Mingyu's hair, or pinch at his sides to wipe the fake gloom off his face. Seokmin isn't exactly watching them, but he's always half waiting to tease Minghao about his crush.

And since he doesn't know that Minghao has finally done something about it, Minghao is trying to remember how to act like he hasn't been kissing Mingyu whenever he wants to lately.

"I hate math," Mingyu says, wrinkling his nose and holding his notebook up to Minghao. "None of this makes sense."

"Maybe it's your handwriting," Minghao says, taking it and shaking his head, trying to understand any of the messy notes that Mingyu has scrawled across the pages. "How do you read any of this?"

"It's fine," Mingyu whines, sitting up to snatch his notes back, a pout on his face. It's cute and Minghao reaches out and flicks the tip of his nose when Mingyu lunges in for his notes. Mingyu yelps, in surprise rather than genuine pain, covering his nose with one hand and staring at Minghao with comically wide eyes.

Minghao laughs, shaking his head and relenting, passing the notebook back to Mingyu with a shake of his head. "You should really take notes on your laptop if you want anyone to read them."

"I can read them," Mingyu says, dropping his hand and showing off his toothy smile. Minghao rolls his eyes but he's still smiling and when Mingyu's head ends up in his lap he just shifts to make it a little more comfortable, clicking idly through the pictures on his memory card, trying to pick any that are worth editing for his project.

He only needs one hand to go through them, so the other drops and cards through the messy curls of Mingyu's dark hair before Minghao thinks about stopping himself. Mingyu hums, leaning his head into the touch.

"Oh my god," Seokmin says, sitting on the other side of the room, staring at them both. Minghao jolts, pulling his hand back and looking over at Seokmin with his eyebrows raised. Seokmin is staring at them with surprise written across his face, mouth hanging open, eyes bulging out. "Oh my _god."_

"What are you freaking out about?" Minghao asks, rolling his eyes, more entertained than annoyed.

"You two are…" He gestures at where Mingyu's head is in Minghao's lap, flapping his hands uselessly in the air. "Oh my god!"

Minghao's face flushes with heat immediately, shoving Mingyu's head away even though he knows it only makes him look more guilty. Mingyu sits up reluctantly, looking at Seokmin with very genuine confusion written across his face.

"That's not what's going on," Minghao says, his words coming out sharper than he means them to. Mingyu is quiet next to him, his confusion fading into a small frown, leaning to the other side so there's a polite gulf of space between them.

"You're _not_ dating now?" Seokmin asks, a hefty helping of glee in his voice.

Words choke themselves up in Minghao's throat. He knows it's stupid to think he could keep this a secret from Seokmin. It's stupid to think he even needs to: it's not as if Seokmin didn't know about Minghao's crush for the last few months. It's not like Seokmin hasn't been openly rooting for this to happen for weeks.

"We're not," Mingyu says, casting a nervous glance at Minghao. He's a terrible liar; his face is red and his voice is too serious. Seokmin's smile just grows wider and brighter.

Minghao hangs his head with a sigh, shaking it. "Yes. We're dating now."

Seokmin shouts out a happy sound, launching himself across the room to trap the both of them in an over-enthusiastic hug. Minghao huffs out in surprise, patting Seokmin's shoulder, shaking his head.

"You can't tell anyone," he says when Seokmin releases them and sits up again. Mingyu looks a little bit like a kicked puppy and Minghao can't quite place why but doesn't want to ask either. Seokmin's smile descends quickly off his face, blinking.

"Why not?" He asks, his brow furrowed. "It's a good thing, right?"

"Because I don't like people knowing my business," Minghao says, his voice coming out pointed. Seokmin still looks confused.

"Yeah but, not even Soonie or Wonwoo-hyung?" Seokmin asks, shaking his head. "We're not 'people', we're your friends."

"No," Minghao says, gritting the word out between his teeth.

Seokmin is hurt— his face does a bad job covering for it. "You weren't going to tell me, either."

Minghao doesn't have an answer for that. He wasn't going to tell Seokmin but he also can't fully explain why. He can't even explain to Mingyu why their relationship needs to be a secret. Seokmin's shoulders sink low and Minghao has a full minute to think about how he's the worst friend in the universe.

"I won't tell anyone," Seokmin says, his voice low. "Not even Soonie-hyung."

Mingyu's eyes are darting between the two of them nervously and he reaches out to rub Seokmin's shoulder, a tentative smile on his face. "Sorry, Seokgu. We're not trying to keep you out of things."

Minghao appreciates Mingyu stepping in like this. Emotional matters have never really been his strong suit, even with Seokmin who is so clear and straightforward about everything he's feeling. Seokmin nods at Mingyu but his eyes are still on Minghao, questioning and sad.

"You know I trust you," Minghao says, the words sticking reluctantly to his tongue. "I just…"

There's no way to tell Seokmin why he's so scared of _anyone_ finding out; not without telling a very long story.

"It's okay," Seokmin says, shaking his head. "I'm glad you guys finally worked it out."

Mingyu turns to him with a questioning look on his face, starting to smile. "Finally?"

"Shut up," Minghao says, ducking his head with a groan. Mingyu's hand is resting on top of his, light and subtle, squeezing Minghao's fingers in his own. It's comforting, even if he still feels shitty for not telling Seokmin and even shittier for Mingyu having to lie on his behalf.

Seokmin is the kindest, least threatening person that Minghao knows. There's no good way for Minghao to explain his lack of faith. But then again, it isn't the idea of Seokmin knowing that scares him— it's the idea of anyone knowing. He would probably keep it from Jun too if it were at all possible.

Mingyu gives his hand a squeeze, pumping Seokmin for details on Minghao's prolonged pining before they all go back to studying. The atmosphere lightens up on its own, even if Minghao can't quite relax all the way again.

 

When they're walking back home, Mingyu doesn't hold his hand, doesn't intrude on his space, but he does look at Minghao with a shy smile when there's no one else around.

"Sorry," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't know you told Seokmin that you, um, had a crush."

"I didn't really," Minghao says, sighing. "He's just annoyingly good at figuring these things out."

Mingyu tilts his head and Minghao glances behind him, biting his lip before continuing. "I didn't _tell_ him I was gay either. He just put it together on his own."

He had help in the form of another Alpha sticking her tongue down Minghao's throat in a closet when they were both freshmen, but Minghao figures leaving that part of the story out doesn't really hurt. Seokmin still figured out the rest on his own and promised that he would keep Minghao's secret if that's what he wanted.

"Oh," Mingyu says, shaking his head with a little smile. "After how dense he was about Soonyoung I wouldn't expect that."

"He's smart as long as he isn't involved," Minghao says, laughing. They're walking up to the stairs to the apartment and Minghao is glad to let go of the paranoid edge of his nerves for a while.

"I never actually told Jun-ge either," Minghao says after the door shuts behind them, stepping out of his shoes and using his foot to nudge them in line with the rest. "He was kinda part of figuring it out at all."

"Is that why you kissed him?" Mingyu asks, giggling, flopping on the couch and stretching his legs out.

"That's why I cried after," Minghao says, letting Mingyu pull him down as well, leaning his chin on Mingyu's chest to look up at his face. "People always assumed me and him were going to end up together so I did too, I guess. But when we kissed it was just… gross."

Mingyu giggles at that, combing his fingers back through Minghao's hair. "I just figured it was a really, really bad kiss."

"I've never actually told anyone but you," Minghao says, looking away from Mingyu's smiling face, feeling shy about admitting it. At the time, it felt like he didn't have any choice but to tell Mingyu either, but it was more intentional than bursting into tears after kissing Jun or just nodding his head while Seokmin stumbled his way to the right answer.

"Wait, really?" Mingyu says, sitting up on his elbows, bringing their faces closer together. Minghao lifts one shoulder in a shrug but nods his head.

"Seokmin and Jun-ge know but I didn't like, come out to them," Minghao says. "It just happened."

There's a wobbly smile on Mingyu's face and at first, Minghao is worried he's said the wrong thing. But before he can ask what's wrong, Mingyu pulls him into a kiss that bumps their noses together. Minghao makes a small, surprised sound, tilting his head to kiss Mingyu back properly, grasping his sides gently.

"What's that for?" Minghao asks when Mingyu pulls back, laughing softly.

"I dunno," Mingyu says, shaking his head. “I wanted to.”

Minghao laughs, laying his cheek on Mingyu’s chest and shutting his eyes with a little hum. “Fine.”

Mingyu giggles, his fingers running through Minghao’s hair, wiggling into a more comfortable spot with Minghao nuzzling slightly against his chest.

**{* * *}**

As much time as they should be spending focused on school with the end of the semester, there still seems to be plenty of time left to do _other_ things.

Things like making out in Minghao’s bed with Mingyu’s notebook thrown off the edge and one of Minghao’s pillows trapped under his shoulder. Minghao is stretched out on top of him with a grin on his face, nipping at the side of Mingyu’s neck. He has his fingers wrapped around one of Mingyu’s wrists, pressing him down into the bed.

“Shouldn’t we be, um,” Mingyu starts, his voice coming out rougher than usual. Minghao looks up at him, mouth still on his throat, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

“What?” He asks, shifting so he’s properly on top of Mingyu, knees digging into the mattress. “Would you rather go back to art history?”

Mingyu bites his lip, shaking his head after a moment, a smile starting on his face. “Not really.”

“Good,” Minghao says, nipping at Mingyu’s collarbone hard enough to leave a red mark behind. It’s not enough to leave a bruise but it makes Mingyu squirm, biting down on his lip. He can feel Minghao grinning against his skin, letting go of his wrist to drag both hands along his sides, slipping one under the loose hem of his shirt. In spite of the easy confidence, Minghao has about him when it comes to fooling around, his fingers skimming over Mingyu's stomach are still soft and tentative. There's a question implicit in the way he runs his fingers up Mingyu's ribs; asking permission, making sure he isn't pushing anything too fast.

In general, Mingyu appreciates it. There's a definite gap between his level of experience with other Alphas and Minghao's. But after already spending so much time lusting after Minghao and the fact that they've been dating for a few weeks and haven't gone any further than this, Mingyu's patience has worn thin. He grabs Minghao's arm, keeping him from pulling it back and guiding it further up his shirt instead, biting his lip. His nerves are nothing compared to the desire to have Minghao actually touch him.

Minghao hesitates, his hand resting at the center of Mingyu's chest, Mingyu's shirt bunching around his wrist, looking at Mingyu's face with a curious lift to his eyebrow. He must decide Mingyu doesn't look like he's panicking too much because he bends forward, kissing him again and dragging his fingers in a lazy circle around one of Mingyu's nipples. Mingyu shivers, lifting his head to kiss Minghao in return, a little surprised by his own sensitivity.

He's used to being expected to take the lead when it comes to sex, but there's something oddly relaxing about just laying back and letting Minghao set the pace. Minghao sucks on his lower lip, thumb pressing the hard peak of Mingyu's nipple, rubbing it in a slow circle and making Mingyu's back arch into the touch.

"You can stop me when you want to," Minghao says, speaking against Mingyu's lips, his other hand cupping Mingyu's cheek then sliding down the side of his neck. Mingyu shakes his head, tilting it back to expose more of his throat. He can feel the way Minghao goes tense at the sight, his eyes a hungry weight, watching Mingyu position himself in a way that's undeniably submissive.

"I don't want you to stop," Mingyu says, his voice whinier than he means it to be. Minghao makes a quiet, hungry sound in the back of his throat, skimming his lips once again over Mingyu's exposed neck. He pinches Mingyu's nipple between two fingers, not hard but enough to make Mingyu jolt in surprise, biting down on his lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound. Minghao releases the pressure of his fingers after a moment, rubbing them soothingly over Mingyu's chest before sitting up to push his shirt up so it's fully out of the way.

Mingyu yanks it over his head and tosses it to the side, flopping back down under Minghao. Minghao is less hesitant now, his mouth hot on Mingyu's collarbone, careful not to leave any lasting marks behind that Mingyu would have to explain to anyone else. His hand slides down as well, pushing Mingyu's legs apart to settle properly between them. His fingers are on Mingyu's thigh, not yet approaching where he's half-hard in his jeans but Mingyu still can't resist tipping his hips up in an attempt to get any friction on his cock at all.

"You're so…" Minghao starts, trailing off and flicking his tongue over the peak of Mingyu's nipple, startling a little whine out of him. Mingyu's fingers dig into the sheets under him, lifting his hips again and this time grinding his crotch against Minghao's leg. The angle isn't quite right but Mingyu's head still snaps back, a shaky sigh falling out of his mouth.

"So what?" He asks but Minghao just shakes his head instead of answering, his fingers tight around Mingyu's thigh.

That's how they stay for several minutes; Minghao using his hands to pin Mingyu's hips in place while his mouth teases Mingyu's chest, littering it with soft bites and kisses, taking his time to explore until Mingyu is squirming, desperate for him to do _anything_ more.

"Minghao," he whines, his eyes half-open, looking up at the other Alpha with parted lips and a slight frown. Minghao looks back at him, his pupils expanded to swallow the brown of his iris, the constant grasp of his hands preventing Mingyu from finding any relief for his now neglected boner.

It's not as if the hard line of Minghao's cock in his thin joggers is a secret, either. Minghao sits up, starts to pull away, apparently planning on denying the both of them once again. Mingyu whimpers, reaching out and grabbing Minghao's arm, shaking his head. "C'mon."

Minghao opens his mouth to say something then shuts it again, letting Mingyu pull him into a kiss. It's obvious he's trying to keep it soft but struggling when Mingyu's tongue teases over the seam of his lips. He weaves his fingers into Minghao's hair, holding him in place until he gives in and slides his tongue over Mingyu's.

"I'm trying not to rush it," Minghao says when he finally pulls back, his sigh ghosting over Mingyu's cheek. Mingyu still refuses to let go of his hair, stroking the chocolate brown strands between his fingers.

"You don't have to fuck me," Mingyu says, shaking his head. Still, as soon as he says it his stomach curls at the thought. He's spent way, way too much time on his own thinking about what it would be like to have another Alpha— to have Minghao— fuck him. He bites down on his lip, giving Minghao the most imploring look that he can manage. He knows what he wants to ask for but the idea of putting it into words is embarrassing.

But Minghao has an eyebrow raised, watching him closely, leaning over so Mingyu can feel the press of Minghao's cock into his thigh. Now is the best chance to get what he's been thinking about for so long and the worst time for him to chicken out. He sucks in a deep breath and reaches for one of Minghao's wrists, holding his hand up in the limited space between them, swallowing hard. "You can just, um…"

It takes a moment for Minghao to catch on, his forehead wrinkling before his eyes blink wide when he understands what Mingyu is asking him for. It's obvious he's trying to keep the look on his face calm, but he makes a strangled, throaty sound when Mingyu kisses the tips of his fingers, unable to stop it. Mingyu releases his wrist but Minghao holds his hand there for a second, staring at his fingers then looking at Mingyu, curving his hand around his side instead.

"Have you…?" He asks, lifting his eyebrows. Mingyu can feel his face flush, shaking his head.

"I tried, um, once. But I couldn't do it very well on my own," Mingyu says, his voice trailing off to a mumble at the end. He'd made a valiant effort, using one of the little lube packets that ended up in the back of his drawer somehow, working two fingers into his hole and wiggling around in bed to try and find a way to get off like that without his wrist cramping up for the rest of his life. He couldn't manage it in the end and had just rolled on his back and finished himself off, lamenting the way his body clamped down around the empty space when he came.

Minghao sighs out a single shaky breath before sitting up. Mingyu worries for a second that he's going to just walk out, fighting the temptation to lock his thighs around Minghao's waist to keep him in place, but instead, Minghao stretches his arm over to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He has an entire bottle of lube, half hidden under a few other things, along with a string of condoms that make a little bit of jealousy prickle up Mingyu's spine. Minghao pulls the lube out, shoving the drawer shut and setting it to the side.

"You might not like it," he says, staring down at Mingyu with a little bit of wariness still on his face. Mingyu refrains from explaining that he's wanted Minghao's fingers in him since he went into rut and simply shakes his head.

"I wanna try it," he says, eyes wide and imploring. It only takes a few seconds for Minghao to give in, leaning in to kiss him again, ignoring the lube to slide his hands down to Mingyu's hips, playing with the fastening of his jeans. One of his palms curves over Mingyu's cock, rubbing him through the rough fabric, and Mingyu tilts his head back with a groan.

Minghao has been putting out waves of aroused pheromones since they started— a smell that sticks in the back of Mingyu's throat and makes his mouth water. But now it's like he's kicked into overdrive and Mingyu's nose tickles with the heavy spiced citrus smell. It only makes the arousal simmering away in his stomach that much worse, making him push his body up into Minghao's, whimpering when Minghao pulls his hand away to yank open the fastening of Mingyu's jeans, making the metal teeth of the zipper pop as they unlock.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," Minghao says, shaking his head and dragging Mingyu's pants down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. Mingyu sits up on his elbows, pulling Minghao's shirt off in return. Minghao's hands linger on his hips, thumbs rubbing small circles into his pelvis. He nudges Mingyu's head back with his nose, latching his mouth to the sensitive skin just under his chin, teeth scraping and stimulating the scent gland tucked just beneath his flesh.

Mingyu groans, grabbing onto Minghao's shoulders in an attempt to ground himself, mouth hanging open when Minghao nips at his chin. It would be a possessive move even if they weren't both Alphas, teasing the delicate skin with his mouth means that Minghao can practically taste Mingyu's scent and his teeth are close to Mingyu's pulse, his jugular, everywhere that instincts insist he's the most vulnerable. It makes Mingyu shiver, his nails digging crescents into Minghao's shoulders.

He barely notices Minghao pulling his boxers down past the slick crown of his cock and down his thighs until cool air rushes over his cock, making him flinch in surprise. Minghao drags the bridge of his nose along the bone of Mingyu's jaw, pressing a single kiss to his exposed throat before sitting up, pulling his underwear off the rest of the way. Mingyu lays flat against the bed, pulling in several heavy breaths, his eyes fluttering shut when Minghao's fingers drag over his cock for the first time. Minghao is tentative still, his thumb tracing a tight circle around the slick tip of Mingyu's cock, spreading the precome stuck to his skin to make the slide of his hand easier.

It makes Mingyu whine, pushing his hips up into Minghao's hand and forcing his eyes open so he can really take in the sight of Minghao stroking his cock. It's far more powerful than all the fantasies he's been harboring for the last few months. Minghao's eyes are dark, trained on his face with a sharp focus that makes Mingyu blush. He's not really used to having his reactions monitored so closely by anyone. It makes his stomach tight, his thighs squeezing around Minghao's hips, fucking up into the loose grasp of his fingers.

Minghao pulls his hand away after a moment, ignoring Mingyu's put out whimper at the loss of friction, giving him a little smile and pushing his legs gently apart.

"You should take your pants off," Mingyu says, biting his lip. Minghao looks down at his legs then laughs, sitting up on his knees and shoving his joggers down, kicking them off the end of the bed.

"Better?" He asks, one eyebrow raised, digging around the sheets for the bottle of lube. Mingyu nods his head, laying back once again. Minghao guides his thighs further apart, making Mingyu's face flush when he realizes how exposed he is, his whole body bared for Minghao's hungry gaze.

"Hold your legs," Minghao says, guiding Mingyu's hands to his thighs. Mingyu grips them tightly, biting his lip and watching Minghao flick the plastic cap open with his thumb, spreading the clear liquid over his fingers. "Relax. Take a big breath for me."

It's comforting to have Minghao talk him through things. Mingyu nods, wiggling a little to get more comfortable and sucking in a heavy breath, trying to focus on unwinding the tension of his muscles.

The first touch of Minghao's cool, slick fingers against his rim still makes him jump, flinching away on instinct, an uncomfortable growl building in his throat. As badly as he _wants_ to have Minghao touch him, it's still foreign and an instinctive part of his brain recoils from the idea. Minghao pulls his hand away, rubbing the other up and down Mingyu's thighs, shushing him gently.

"Hey," he says, his voice quiet. Mingyu opens his eyes to look up at him again, licking his lips.

"Sorry," he says, but Minghao just shakes his head.

"Just focus on me," he says, still massaging the muscle of Mingyu's thigh. "I'm gonna take care of you."

He can see the way Minghao's cheeks go pink when he promises that but it makes Mingyu smile. He leans up to plant a messy kiss to Minghao's lips, his hands slipping off his thighs and pressing into the bed to support his weight. Minghao kisses him in return, rubbing soothing circles into his hip.

"Hand me one of the pillows," he says, inclining his head toward them. Mingyu nods, grabbing it and then lifting his hips off the bed to allow Minghao to slide the cushion underneath. "Better?"

Mingyu hums, laying down again and making sure to spread his thighs far apart. He sucks in another deep breath, holding it in his lungs and releasing when he once again feels Minghao's fingers, this time a little warmer, grazing gently over his rim. It's less of a surprise this time and Mingyu does his best to stay relaxed.

It helps that Minghao doesn't seem to plan on breaching him immediately, using his fingers to tease the puckered muscle of Mingyu's hole, spreading the slick lube over it and making his nerves spark from the new sensation. Slowly, Minghao slips one finger in, his other hand teasing the tip of Mingyu's cock to distract him from the strange, intrusive feeling.

Like when he was by himself, having Minghao's finger in him doesn't immediately feel good, it just feels weird. He growls again, softer and less threatening this time, more confused about how he should react than trying to warn Minghao away from touching him.

"Keep breathing," Minghao reminds him, waiting until Mingyu is once again relaxed before starting to gently thrust his finger. It's apparent right away that Minghao has a much better angle, his long fingers perfect for reaching further than Mingyu can on his own, and the sensation quickly loses its edge as Mingyu gets used to it.

"Is it okay?" Minghao asks after a minute, watching Mingyu with his lower lip trapped under his teeth. Mingyu nods, wiggling his hips experimentally.

"Can… can you try another?" Mingyu asks, running one of his hands up and down his chest, palm brushing over one of his nipples. Minghao nods and this time Mingyu takes a deep breath without being reminded, blowing all the air out of his lungs when Minghao lines up a second finger and presses it slowly inside.

This time there's a slight stretch that makes his muscles protest, but not so badly that Mingyu would say it actually hurts. Minghao is slow anyway, stopping when both of his fingers are buried to the knuckles. He holds them there until Mingyu gives another tentative wiggle of his hips, sawing his wrist carefully back and forth.

It's actually starting to feel nice. Minghao picks up a steady rhythm of fucking his fingers into Mingyu and Mingyu's flagging cock twitches back to life. Minghao crooks and spreads his fingers and it doesn't occur to Mingyu to ask what he's doing until the pad of Minghao's finger brushes over a spot inside him that makes his whole body jolt, squeaking out a surprised moan.

Minghao grins, his free hand immediately pinning Mingyu's hips in place, brushing his fingers over the same spot once again. Mingyu gasps, tossing his head back against the bed and digging his fingers hard into the sheets.

"Fuck," he grits out, his eyes squeezed shut. He's aware of exactly what his prostate is, of course, and he's slept with enough people to understand what Minghao is doing to him, but it's the first time feeling it for himself. Minghao keeps his hips pinned in place, never giving Mingyu's prostate anything more than glancing, quick touches, tormenting him with little shocks of pleasure that make Mingyu's body jolt and squeeze around his fingers.

"You're doing so good," Minghao says, his voice heavy laden with affection that makes Mingyu flush. If he had the proper presence of mind, he'd argue that he's not really doing anything, but hearing it from Minghao only serves to set him off even more. He's pushing back into Minghao's hand now, rolling his hips down every time Minghao's fingers shove into him.

"Minghao, please," Mingyu whines, not even certain what he's really asking for. He hasn't felt this keyed up and sensitive since he was in rut, rolling around in bed and fucking his fist while breathing in the scent of Minghao's shirt. His skin is burning all over and he can hear the dirty, slick sound of Minghao's fingers fucking into him.

In response, Minghao just grins down at him, rubbing his fingers slowly around Mingyu's prostate, never quite touching it, other hand teasing Mingyu's cock once again. "Do you wanna come?"

Mingyu nods his head hard, though that doesn't fully encompass everything he wants at the moment. He wants Minghao's teeth set into his neck, leaving a mark for other people to see. He wants Minghao to fuck him until he can't remember his own name. He wants to feel the incredible swell of Minghao's knot inside him, locking their bodies together.

"Please," he repeats, unable to string enough words together to properly explain. Minghao's fingers press into his prostate, rubbing it, and Mingyu squirms against the sheets, not sure if he's trying to shove Minghao's fingers in further or escape the relentless sensation. Minghao's thumb is teasing the sensitive slit of his cock, the tight pressure of his fingers forcing Mingyu to buck up into his fist. He squeezes down hard on Minghao's fingers, intent on making sure he can't pull out, and just before the world is drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears he thinks he hears the sound of Minghao groaning out his name.

He comes like that, painting a sticky white mess on his stomach and Minghao's fist, his rim convulsing around Minghao's fingers. The orgasm hits him hard and leaves him shaking after, whimpering when Minghao's fingers pull out when he finishes. He feels torn open; exposed and vulnerable in a way he's never felt after sex before. He reaches out blindly, glad when his hands slide over Minghao's arms, pulling him in close.

"You okay?" Minghao asks, rubbing the small of Mingyu's back, arms wrapping around him. Mingyu can feel Minghao's hard cock pushing into his thigh and he nods, nuzzling the juncture of Minghao's throat and breathing in the spicy scent of his skin.

"Yeah," he says, his voice thick, clinging Minghao as close as he can, waiting for the hammering of his heart to slow down. "It's just. A lot."

"You're okay," Minghao says, pressing a delicate kiss to Mingyu's forehead. "I'm gonna stay right here. I've got you."

Mingyu nods, keeping his face hidden against Minghao's neck, listening to the steady beating of the other Alpha’s heart.

"You're still really hard," Mingyu says once he's calmed down, giggling and pulling away from Minghao's throat. Minghao rolls his eyes, flicking Mingyu's forehead gently.

"Don't worry about it," he says, kissing the corner of Mingyu's mouth. But Mingyu shakes his head, chasing a proper kiss and whining.

"It's not fair," he says, lower lip stuck out in a pout. "I don't wanna leave you like that."

Under any other circumstances, Minghao would probably argue with him. But Mingyu can feel how hard he is, leaking precome onto one of Mingyu's thighs, and the alternative to Mingyu's help is jerking off in the shower by himself…

"Lay back," Minghao says after a moment of thinking it over, his hands lingering on Mingyu's ribs. "On your side."

Mingyu rolls, smiling when Minghao lines up against his back, peppering kisses against his shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna fuck your thighs," Minghao says, reaching around Mingyu to grab the bottle of lube once again, this time squirting the cold liquid into his palm and rubbing his hands together to warm it up.

"Oh," Mingyu says, his tired cock giving an interested little twitch at the idea.

"Is that okay?" Minghao asks, hesitating once again. "I can take care of it myself. You don't have to…"

"It's fine," Mingyu says, heat creeping up the back of his neck. "It's good."

Minghao smears the lube between Mingyu's thighs, making him shiver, before guiding them back together. He kisses the nape of Mingyu's neck, gripping his thigh still. "Keep your legs like that."

Mingyu nods, biting his lip to keep from whining when he feels Minghao's cock slide between his thighs. It's a new feeling but definitely not a bad one. Behind him, Minghao groans softly, his forehead pressed to the back of Mingyu's shoulder. Mingyu does his best to keep his legs tight together, though it's a struggle with his muscles already loose and relaxed from coming.

Either way, Minghao doesn't complain. He sets a quick pace from the start, his hips slapping against the back of Mingyu's thighs with each thrust, muffling soft groans into Mingyu's shoulder. Mingyu reaches one hand down, rubbing his thumb over Minghao's cock when the head of it peeks between his thighs on each thrust.

"Oh fuck," Minghao mumbles, biting Mingyu's shoulder hard enough to sting. It might leave a mark but at this point Mingyu is past caring, arching back into Minghao's chest and squeezing his legs tighter together. Minghao groans, leaving a smeared mess between Mingyu's thighs when he comes, arms wrapped around Mingyu's chest to hold them close together, his thumb teasing one of Mingyu's nipples.

It's too soon for Mingyu to get hard again but he whines anyway. He's a mess already; come on his stomach, his hole still slick and loose, Minghao's come between his thighs. But there's something about it he likes too, even with the tacky mess starting to dry on his stomach and a cooling layer of sweat on his skin.

Minghao nuzzles into his shoulder. "Thanks."

He sounds sleepy. Mingyu rolls on his back so he can look up at Minghao properly, grinning. "You too."

Minghao laughs softly at that, curling his body around Mingyu's and kissing his cheek. They'll have to get up before long to clean up, but for the moment Mingyu is content to lie there and listen to Minghao's breathing return to normal, petting the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.


	11. be still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is it you or Mingyu?" Seokmin asks, tilting his head to the side. "That wants to keep it a secret."
> 
> "Me," Minghao says, a bitter smile climbing its way onto his face. "Mingyu can barely manage to keep a secret to begin with."

No matter how hard he tries to keep on top of things during the semester, Minghao can't seem to avoid the incredible stress and pressure that comes along with finals. He's done his best up to this point to keep his work from overwhelming him but it still seems to crash down on him like a wave during the last weeks of the semester.

Last year things were even worse and Minghao spent nearly every night half-asleep in the library until Jihoon texted Jun to come and drag him home. This semester he's doing only slightly better, his upper body draped over the coffee table in the living room, staring blankly at the screen of his computer, trying to make his brain process any more information.

It's late enough that the sun has sunk outside, meaning the room around him has gone dark due to his refusal to get up and turn on the lights, and the glow from his screen is starting to give Minghao a headache. Awhile ago Mingyu left to go meet with his project group but Minghao can't really remember when or if he said when he'd be home.

So when the door swings open, Minghao jolts slightly in surprise, his trance broken for just a moment.

"Hello?" Mingyu says, his voice loud, shutting the door and kicking his shoes off.

"Hey," Minghao says, much more muted, turning back to his laptop. Mingyu pauses, staring at the side of his face before reaching to turn the lights on with a little giggle.

"I wasn't sure if you were here," he says, walking over and sitting on the couch behind Minghao, leaning to kiss the exposed back of his neck in greeting. "Why are you in the dark?"

"Sun went down," Minghao says, leaning back into Mingyu but not taking his attention off the screen, still toying with the contrast of the photo on the screen, trying to get it right.

"Yeah, like two hours ago," Mingyu says, shaking his head. He puts his chin on top of Minghao's head, arms draping around his shoulders, pulling gently so Minghao is leaning back against his chest. "Did you eat?"

"No," Minghao says, still reluctant to let go of his focus. "What time is it?"

"After nine," Mingyu says, worry creeping into his voice. "I asked if you wanted me to bring you anything."

"Oh," Minghao says, blinking and looking down at his phone, frowning at the five unopened messages from Mingyu. "I didn't see it."

"Do you want something?" Mingyu asks, leaning to the side, obviously trying to get Minghao to look at him properly. "You gotta be hungry."

"I'm fine," Minghao says, shaking his head. He probably _should_ eat but he feels too disconnected from his body to tell if he's hungry or not.

Mingyu sighs, his arms squeezing a little tighter around Minghao, tugging again in an effort to get his attention. Minghao grunts but doesn't try to wiggle away, shaking his head. "I'll eat later."

"It is later," Mingyu says, whining now, nuzzling the top of Minghao's head. "I'll make you some ramen."

"I just wanna finish with this," Minghao says, shaking his head. He expects Mingyu to huff at him and walk off, but instead, he just sighs and curls his arms more comfortably around Minghao, settling into his spot.

It's more comfortable than Minghao expects. He was planning on scolding Mingyu for making a nuisance of himself, but he's content to sit quietly and just hold onto Minghao like some kind of overgrown koala, humming quietly along with the music that Minghao has playing.

It's nice, actually. It makes Minghao feel a little more relaxed and without meaning to he finds himself leaning back against Mingyu's chest, melting into the offered warmth and support. After a while, he saves his project and shuts the computer with a sigh, leaving the rest for later, leaning his head back against Mingyu's shoulder.

"How's your group?" Minghao asks, stretching back to kiss Mingyu's cheek.

"It's not bad," Mingyu says, hugging Minghao a little tighter to his chest, smiling. "Jeonghan-hyung is working with me."

Minghao hums, wondering if he would regret just drifting off to sleep like this. It feels like he could but Mingyu clicks his tongue, sitting up and withdrawing his arms. "You need dinner."

"I'll make it," Minghao says, sitting up and shaking his head. He pushes himself off the couch with a little huff only to find immediately that it's a mistake. His head goes too light, black dots swimming in his vision, forcing him to drop back down next to Mingyu or just fall over.

Mingyu yelps in surprise, putting a hand out like he's trying to catch Minghao, looking at him with a sigh and a shake of his head.

"I'll do it," he says, standing up with a smile, ruffling Minghao's hair when he goes by.

Minghao groans, pushing himself up and shaking his head, following Mingyu out to the kitchen and ignoring the way his legs feel a little like jelly under him. Mingyu looks over his shoulder after digging a pot out of their cabinet, filling it with water and rolling his eyes.

"Go sit down," Mingyu says, sounding more entertained than annoyed.

"I got it," Minghao says, shaking his head. Mingyu sighs, setting the pot down without turning the burner on, backing Minghao up against the counter and kissing him once softly.

"You look dead on your feet," Mingyu says, his fingers in the side of Minghao's face, thumb tracing just under Minghao's eyes. Minghao shrugs one of his shoulders, tilting his chin back and leaning his cheek into Mingyu's hand. "You need to take a break."

"I'm fine," Minghao says, shaking his head and smiling a little. "I just have a lot to finish."

Mingyu sighs, brushing Minghao's overgrown bangs out of the way and kissing his forehead before turning back to the stove and turning the burner on. Minghao pushes himself up onto the counter, stretching his arms above his head before leaning back against the wall, watching Mingyu wander around the kitchen and tidy random spots up with a smile on his face.

He was worried it would ultimately be weird or suffocating to try dating someone he was already living with but in the end, dating Mingyu isn't that much different than living with him, to begin with except for the increased physical contact. He and Mingyu still have separate social lives and shared friends. They generally sleep in their own beds unless they don't feel like it.

He watches Mingyu drop two packs of noodles into the boiling water before his eyes drift shut on their own, dozing with the sound of Mingyu rattling dishes and mumbling to himself in the background. He doesn't fall all the way asleep, but he does jolt up in surprise when Mingyu taps his knee, setting a steaming bowl of ramen down next to his leg with a laugh.

"Go to bed after you eat," he says, shaking his head before shoving himself up on the counter next to Minghao with his own bowl. He probably ate dinner already but he digs into his food too fast anyway, hissing at the heat of the broth. Minghao giggles, leaning his head against Mingyu's shoulder, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter.

"I think I burned my tongue," Mingyu mumbles, sticking his tongue out and poking the center of it. Minghao rolls his eyes, blowing the steam off of his food before actually taking a bite.

**{* * *}**

The most surprising thing to come out of the whole semester, short of coming out to Mingyu and eventually dating him as well, is the fact that not only does Jihoon not murder Jun by the time finals are over; he actually agrees to have a small party in their apartment.

He's lucky, or maybe his threats were sufficient enough for Jun to actually keep it small. It's only people that Jun knows well and it's obvious that even Jihoon isn't bothered by the number of people taking up space in his living room if the content little smile on his face is anything to go by.

Minghao is just glad to have all the weight of finals lifted off of his shoulders, watching Mingyu bicker about something with Jeonghan. It's impossible to tell if the two of them are friends or not after they ended up having to do most of their group project work together because the other members of their team weren't reliable enough. Mingyu's pouting, shaking his head at whatever Jeonghan is saying and Minghao giggles to himself.

Seokmin flops down on the couch next to him apparently finished with kissing Soonyoung in some dark corner of the apartment. He smiles, leaning sideways so his head is on Minghao's thigh, giggling. He's drunk, a high flush on his cheeks and Minghao can't help but smile, patting the top of his head.

"Did you finally escape Soonyoung-hyung?" Minghao asks petting Seokmin's hair before leaning back in his seat. Seokmin giggles and nods, stretching himself out and shifting his head to a more comfortable spot of Minghao's thigh.

"For now," Seokmin says, his eyes curved into crescent moons. "He's insatiable, though."

Minghao rolls his eyes, flicking Seokmin's forehead lightly. "That's more than I need to hear."

"I mean it!" Seokmin says, covering the spot and sticking his lower lip out in a pout. "I can't keep up with him. I need clones."

That makes Minghao giggle, shaking his head. "You could tell him 'no' once in a while."

"Nah," Seokmin says, sitting up now, hiccuping out a laugh. "Clones are way easier than that."

Minghao decides not to argue with that one, taking another long sip of his drink, looking around with a little smile. He hasn't been out to any kind of party in awhile— partially from the stress of finals and partially because more often than not he'd rather take the time to sit around at home with Mingyu— but this is nice. He doesn't have to worry about all his interactions quite as much; these are his friends, people he trusts. People who won't try to stick their tongues down Jun's throat and then punch him in the face.

"Mingyu-ya said you've been going crazy," Seokmin says, still listing sideways even sitting upright, his body warm against Minghao's shoulder. His eyes have drifted over to where Mingyu and Jeonghan are now laughing about something together, Jeonghan slapping Mingyu's arm and leaning his head back while he laughs.

"It wasn't that bad," Minghao says, shaking his head and reminding himself to look at someone else so it doesn't seem like he's trying to bore holes in the side of Mingyu's head.

Remembering that even among his friends he has to be careful stings a little but Minghao tries to ignore it. It's for the better, even if he wishes he could kiss Mingyu's cheek the way Joshua does when Jun holds his phone up to take a selfie, or hold his hand while he laughs, or take a seat in Mingyu's lap when the couch starts to get too cramped.

He must be making some kind of face because Seokmin blinks at him, frowning a little. "You okay?"

Minghao hums, pushing up to his feet but nodding. "I need some air."

"Okay," Seokmin says, standing up as well and wobbling after him, even though Minghao didn't extend an invitation. He's not surprised; Seokmin has a good sense of other people and he's always been able to tell when Minghao has too much on his mind.

There's a tiny yard outside of Jun and Jihoon's apartment building that's thankfully empty and Minghao leans his shoulders up against the brick wall, his breath making tiny clouds in the cool air, a reminder of winter starting to set in.

"Are you and Mingyu-ya okay?" Seokmin asks, taking the spot next to him and tucking his hands into his pockets. Minghao scowls at his own feet and when he doesn't answer for a moment, Seokmin backtracks. "Sorry. You don't have to tell me anything. It's a secret."

"It's fine," Minghao says, shaking his head. "We're fine."

Seokmin nods, but rather than all the gushing questions Minghao is used to getting from him, he's quiet, head tilted back to look at the sky. It's too cloudy to make out any stars; he's looking away from Minghao, not looking at anything in particular.

"I'm sorry," Minghao says, bouncing his shoulders against the brick behind him. "For not telling you."

"It's okay," Seokmin says, looking back at Minghao with a smile, his voice coming out in a rush. He'd probably say the same thing if Minghao burned his house down. "You're right, it's not my business."

"It is your business," Minghao says, shaking his head, trying to swallow down the sour taste in his mouth. He has an instant dislike for anyone who makes Seokmin sad and it's only that much worse knowing that he's the cause of it this time.

"Is it you or Mingyu?" Seokmin asks, tilting his head to the side. "That wants to keep it a secret."

"Me," Minghao says, a bitter smile climbing its way onto his face. "Mingyu can barely manage to keep a secret, to begin with."

Seokmin nods slowly. The look on his face is an uncommonly serious one and Minghao isn't quite sure what to make of it.

"But I should've told you," Minghao says, pushing his fingers back through his hair. "You're the one who told me to date Mingyu, to begin with."

"I am," Seokmin says, his expression brightening immediately. "Are you happy you listened to me?"

"For once," Minghao says, shaking his head, smiling as well.

"You can tell me about it sometime," Seokmin says, stepping away from the wall, standing in front of Minghao instead. "You must have a big reason, I guess."

The fact that Seokmin is so easy to talk to— so easy for Minghao to confide in, is a blessing and a curse sometimes.

"I don't want anything bad to happen," he says, struggling to put it in the simplest words he can. Seokmin blinks at him, nodding slowly. He’s definitely still a little drunk, and it seems like it takes longer for the words to sink in.

“Something bad?” He says, a frown on his face. His eyebrows are knitted together and there’s a little wobble at the corner of his lips that Minghao already knows too well. “Like what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Minghao says, shaking his head and looking the other direction.

“Sorry,” Seokmin says, too quickly. “Ignore me! You don’t have to say anything about it.”

“I’ve just had to deal with enough shit in the past,” Minghao says, leaning his head back and breathing out a long, slow sigh. “I wanna avoid any more of it.”

“I get it,” Seokmin says, and at least he looks like he’s not about to start crying anymore. “You’re protecting Mingyu too, right?”

Minghao hadn’t really thought of it in that way, at least not very hard. But it’s easier to admit to that than being consumed by his own fears, so he nods along.

“I guess,” Minghao says, tossing his arm over Seokmin’s shoulders and leading them back inside. “It’s fuckin’ cold out here.”

“You’re always cold,” Seokmin says, laughing and giving Minghao a squeeze in return, arm wrapped around his side.

“Thank you,” he says, soft and small, just before they go back inside. Minghao doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just hums in the back of his throat and releases Seokmin when they get back inside.

For the rest of the evening, Minghao feels lighter on his feet than he has for a while.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu only has the chance to kiss Minghao quickly twice before he has to lug his suitcase out to the car to meet up with Wonwoo for their drive back home. It doesn't feel like enough, and if Mingyu had his way he'd spend the next half an hour saying a very drawn out goodbye, even though he'll be gone for ten days, barely over an hour away.

Part of him wants to invite Minghao along; he always spends his holidays on campus alongside Jun and a few other international students, but the idea of him spending Christmas without any family makes Mingyu's chest hurt in a quiet way.

But he's not sure Minghao would agree, and if he asked now he would have to come up with a reason to give his parents that isn't related to the fact that Minghao is his boyfriend, not to mention that even Wonwoo doesn't know…

Mingyu walks down the stairs by himself, suitcase bumping along behind him, trying to ignore the sour taste in his mouth.

If Minghao were anything but another Alpha, he wouldn't have to think twice about inviting him home. It would be expected, even. His parents would have more questions if he _didn't_ bring along any Omega or Beta that he was seeing. But after all the questions his family asked about just living with another Alpha, Mingyu can only imagine the chaos that would follow Minghao if he was there.

He tosses his suitcase into the trunk of his car with a frown on his face, barely noticing Wonwoo already standing there and looking at him with his eyebrows lifted.

"Shouldn't you be happier about going home?" Wonwoo asks, brushing past Mingyu to climb into the passenger's side of the car, leaving Mingyu to shut the trunk and follow along after him. Mingyu sighs, shaking his head after he settles in his seat and shuts the door.

"I am happy," he says, failing to put a smile on his face to show it. Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

"Worried that your mom is going to fatten you up too much again?" Wonwoo asks, a little humor in his usually deadpan voice. Usually, that would be plenty to lift Mingyu's spirits— he loves seeing his family and eating all the food his mom makes.

"I'm not worried," Mingyu says, which is more truth than fiction. Wonwoo is already messing with the radio stations, fiddling with the dial until it's on some kind of talk radio station that Mingyu doesn't recognize but seems to make Wonwoo happy.

He can feel Wonwoo squinting at the side of his face but he doesn't look over, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel and watching the road ahead of him more carefully than he actually needs to.

"Are you going to be grumpy the whole way?" Wonwoo asks after a little bit, his head leaning against the window, sounding bored already. "You didn't even change the radio back."

"Isn't this what you wanna listen to, hyung?" Mingyu asks, sparing it a glance.

"You never care what I wanna listen to," Wonwoo says, laughing and clicking it back to one of Mingyu's preset stations.

Wonwoo's ability to hone in on what exactly is on Mingyu's mind has never failed to be both impressive and annoying.

"You haven't been out on a date in a while," he says, his eyes slightly narrowed behind his glasses, staring at the side of Mingyu's face. He probably doesn't miss the twitch of Mingyu's expression before he forces it back into his best attempt at something neutral; Wonwoo is annoyingly in tune to those sorts of things. "Has your dad been bugging you about it?"

Yes, but it's hardly anything that Mingyu isn't used to already.

"Kinda," he says, shaking his head.

"So it's not that," Wonwoo says, almost to himself, lowering his voice a little before he tries again. "Fail a class? Get rejected by somebody? Fight with Minghao again?"

Mingyu's face must give something away at the last question, no matter how hard he tries not to because out of the corner of his eye he can see Wonwoo smile.

So much for having a best friend who isn't nosy.

"What happened with Minghao-ya?" Wonwoo asks, chuckling. "Did one of his dates beat you up again?"

"No," Mingyu says, with more force than he means to have. As silly as it is, the idea of Minghao seeing anyone else is still enough to make his hackles rise a little bit. He wishes he'd taken the chance to scent mark Minghao more before he left, in spite of the way Minghao complains when he does.

"Okay," Wonwoo says, looking out the window like he's suddenly lost interest in the topic.

Mingyu, idiot that he is, falls for it like he always has.

"I feel bad," he says, trying to pick his words more carefully than usual. "He's gonna be by himself for the break."

"He's gonna be with Junnie," Wonwoo says, laughing a little. "And probably Jihoon and some other Chinese students."

"I know that," Mingyu says, looking over for a second to scowl at Wonwoo. "But he won't be with family."

"So why not bring him home?" Wonwoo asks, shrugging his shoulders. "Your parents wouldn't mind."

"They'd think it was weird," Mingyu says, chewing the inside of his cheek. "And I don't think he would've said yes."

"You're leaving something out," Wonwoo says, picking at a stray thread on the sleeve of his hoodie, still trying to sound like he hasn't been annoying Mingyu for an answer for the last ten minutes.

It would be much easier to put up with if Mingyu were better at lying, especially to Wonwoo.

"I just feel bad about it," Mingyu says, raking his fingers back through his hair. "It's not like he's gonna go on a Christmas date with Jun-hyung."

"Like he would if he was with you," Wonwoo says, nodding his head.

"Right," Mingyu says.

For thirty seconds it feels like the car is dead silent, in spite of the music still warbling out of the radio.

"Wait," Mingyu says, almost slamming on the brakes, jerking up straight in his seat and shaking his head. "That's not what I mean! I just mean we could… hang out. I could show him around, or something. I dunno."

"Are you dating him or do you just want to?" Wonwoo asks, rolling his eyes a little at Mingyu's stumbling excuses.

Mingyu opens his mouth, hovering like that for what seems like a long time, not sure how to answer.

"No one's supposed to know about it," he says finally, heaving out a long sigh.

Wonwoo's expression is neutral and Mingyu isn't entirely sure what to make of it. "It's been like… a month, probably? Around that."

Mingyu’s hands go tighter around the wheel, shifting his grip nervously, waiting to find out of Wonwoo is going to be mad at him for keeping this a secret. It can be hard to judge, though Mingyu has known him for long enough to be able to tell when he’s angry.

Finally, Wonwoo leans back in his seat with a shrug. “I wouldn’t want people to know I was dating you either.”

In his relief, Mingyu laughs harder at the joke than it actually deserves, but it makes Wonwoo smile anyway and the tense air inside the car starts to relax.

**{* * *}**

As reluctant as he is to let it show, he’s happy for the invitation to spend some of the holiday break in Jihoon and Jun’s apartment with the two of them. There’s nothing wrong with his place, but without Mingyu there it’s lonely and he doesn’t mind a few nights on the couch for the benefit of company.

He’s turned down every invitation Jun has extended to share his bed, which he can’t help but think Joshua must appreciate the fact that whenever he comes over the bed doesn’t reek of Minghao.

It’s nice, overall. It makes it easier to put out of his mind that he misses Mingyu an amount that’s hard to justify for how short their holiday break actually is. They’ve been texting as much as they usually do, and all the time that Jun doesn’t spend with Joshua he’s spent bothering Minghao. It’s a little bit of an upgrade from all the Christmases they spent in the past with just the two of them, alone at school, video calling their families and going out to gorge themselves at whatever nice Chinese restaurant they could find.

Jihoon is slumped down on the other end of the couch, either asleep or absorbed in his phone, Minghao isn’t sure, but no longer watching the movie he suggested they put on. Joshua and Jun are still out, doing who knows what, and Minghao is rolling his eyes at a text from Mingyu.

**(my gyu):** _I’m sleepy :(_

It is starting to get late, and Mingyu has spent the last few days seeing friends from high school and helping his mom cook. Minghao doesn’t want to kick Jihoon off the couch just yet, and Jun will probably wake him up when he gets home, anyway.

**(hao hao):** _go to bed_

**(my gyu):** _no :( I wanna talk to you_

Minghao refuses to let himself be charmed by that. He’s not nearly that pathetic when it comes to Mingyu.

(If he smiles a little, who’s around to see it, anyway?)

**(hao hao):** _then don’t sleep_

**(my gyu):** _but I’m sleepy_

**(hao hao):** _I’m gonna kill you_

He finishes sending the message right before Jun opens the door, stomping through it as loudly as ever, shaking the few bare flakes of snow off of his coat. The sound makes Jihoon jerk up straight, blinking and squinting at the door, apparently asleep after all.

“You’re too loud,” he complains, taking one of the throw pillows from the couch and tossing it in Jun’s direction. It flies with almost terrifying accuracy, hitting Jun in the back of the head when he turns around to step out of his shoes, bouncing to the floor. Jun yelps, ducking forward and holding the back of his head.

“I’m being attacked!” He whines, hanging his coat up and bending over to pick the pillow up, hugging it to his chest and walking over to the couch. “In my own home!”

Jihoon is too slow to realize that Jun is headed straight for him and doesn’t manage to make it off the couch before Jun drops the pillow and flops on top of him, all elbows and knees, wrapping his gangly arms around Jihoon’s middle and holding him there so he can’t escape, no matter how much Jihoon tries to wiggle away.

Minghao leans back, not eager to get kicked in the face or pulled into the fray. Jihoon struggles vainly for a minute or two, letting out a weak, non-committal growl before simply going limp and resting his cheek against Jun’s head. Minghao has to swallow the desire to giggle; he’s too used to being Jun’s victim and he always ends up the exact same way.

“Jihoonie, you’re so cute,” Jun coos, poking one of Jihoon’s soft cheeks, sitting up and smacking a wet kiss to his forehead.

“I’m gonna suffocate you in your sleep,” Jihoon mutters, dragging himself off the couch and shaking his head. Minghao catches a smile at the corners of his mouth and Jun sing-songs a fond good night when Jihoon stalks off to his room.

Jihoon actually waves at him before the door shuts— just as whipped as everyone else is when it comes to Jun, it seems.

Jun smiles, stretching himself across the couch until the top of his head is resting close to Minghao’s leg, tucking his arms behind his head to support it, looking at Minghao upside down.

“Are you still texting Mingyu at all hours?” He asks, grinning and poking Mingyu in the side.

“He’s in bed,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes and setting his phone down. Jun hums, his smile shrinking into a more thoughtful expression.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go home with him,” Jun says after a moment. “It’s not that far, right?”

“He didn’t ask,” Minghao says, leaning back against the couch and shaking his head. “Besides, it’d be kinda weird.”

“Weird?” Jun asks, rolling onto his side so he can actually look up at Minghao properly.

“Bringing another Alpha home for Christmas?” Minghao asks, raising his eyebrows.

Jun purses his lips, poking Minghao’s thigh. “He’s bringing his boyfriend home.”

“They don’t know that,” Minghao says, shaking his head. “That’s what a secret is, Jun-ge.”

“Don’t you think it would be easier if you just let people know?” Jun says, sitting up now and pushing his fingers through his hair. “Hiding just makes everything harder.”

“Hiding it means I don’t have to worry about what other people are gonna do,” Minghao says, scowling back at Jun now.

“I’m worried about you, Hao Hao,” Jun says, soft and serious. “You can’t keep ignoring your feelings like this… it’s gonna catch up to you sooner or later.”

Minghao feels distinctly like he’s being scolded by one of his parents. It makes sense— for as long as they’ve known each other, Minghao and Jun are practically family.

“I’m not ignoring anything,” Minghao says, glaring directly at the table in front of him rather than looking at Jun. “I’m dating Mingyu now, aren’t I?”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jun says, leaning sideways so his head is against Minghao’s shoulder. “Have you even told Mingyu-ya—”

“No,” Minghao says, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s no reason to.”

Jun sighs, his head tilted to look up at Minghao. “Xiao Hao, you can’t date him and keep him out of your life at the same time.”

“I don’t want him out of my life,” Minghao says, leaning away from the pressure of Jun against his shoulders, twisting his fingers around his own wrist. “It’s in the past. Bringing it all up again doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s not in the past until you let go,” Jun says, poking at Minghao’s side gently.

Minghao huffs, pushing himself off of the couch and shaking his head. “I’m going home.”

“Hey,” Jun says, sitting up and leaning over the side of the couch, reaching both arms out in an effort to catch Minghao while he shrugs his coat on. “Don’t leave. I just want you to think about it.”

“I’m done thinking about it,” Minghao says, stepping into his shoes and tapping his pocket to make sure he still has his phone. “I don’t wanna talk about this shit anymore.”

He doesn’t want to think about the sad look Jun gives him when he lets himself out, the heavy door banging shut behind him. It’s cold and windy outside, a thin layer of snow blowing through the air. Minghao shrugs his coat a little tighter, hanging his head low between his shoulders while he walks.

There are two new messages on his phone when he finally gets back home.

**(jun jun):** _I’m sorry :( get home safe, pls. Call me tomorrow_

**(my gyu):** _I’m going to sleep ig. Hope you’re having fun!!~_

Minghao drops his coat and his shoes by the door, crashing face-first into bed, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders to try and erase some of the cold.


	12. home before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Um, sorry about that,” he says after a moment, rubbing his palms up and down Minghao’s arms to try and keep him from getting too cold.
> 
> “My last date punched you in the face,” Minghao says, his bubble of laughter muffled in Mingyu’s shoulder. “That wasn’t quite as bad.”

It’s late in the afternoon when Mingyu’s car pulls into the small gravel lot outside their apartment building and Minghao is stretched out on the couch, eyes trained on the TV, trying to act like he hasn’t been waiting for the last hour for Mingyu to get back.

It makes him feel extremely silly; Mingyu’s only been gone for two weeks and they talked on the phone last night. He’s barely had the time to miss Mingyu as much as he does. But he still hasn’t talked to Jun after their argument and he spent the rest of the break holed up in the apartment, avoiding him or Joshua or Jihoon.

So, Minghao’s attempt to be casual when Mingyu walks through the door is a miserable failure. He didn’t mention anything to Mingyu about arguing with Jun, or the fact that he’s been lonely by himself since then. Mingyu elbows the door shut and Minghao bolts upright, fighting the urge to launch himself over the back of the couch and directly at Mingyu’s broad chest.

He’s wearing a black turtleneck pulled up to his chin and that only makes the temptation worse. It looks soft and it definitely smells like Mingyu…

“Hey,” Minghao says, draping his arm over the back of the couch, squeezing his other hand in a tight fist in his lap.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, kicking his shoes off and dragging his bag behind him.

“Did you have fun at home?” Minghao asks, reaching his arm out to catch the corner of Mingyu’s sleeve, keeping him from dragging his stuff back into his room. Mingyu stops, the smile on his face growing.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding and then laughing when Minghao tugs him closer to the couch. He has to sit up on his knees and pull Mingyu down by the shoulders to kiss him, and that only makes Mingyu smile even more. He cups his hand softly around Minghao’s face, thumb following the line of his cheekbone. It’s a long, slow kiss and it makes Minghao feel better than he has in days.

He slides his arms around Mingyu’s neck, peppering kisses against his mouth. Mingyu opens his mouth and Minghao pushes his tongue past his lips, reeling him even more, nails scratching the base of his skull softly. It’s a few minutes before he actually pulls back, rubbing at the small of his back and laughing.

“If we’re gonna make out can I at least be on the couch?” He asks, laughing when Minghao wiggles over quickly to make space for him.

Minghao manages to get another two kisses in before Mingyu starts talking again.

“You didn’t miss me, did you?” Mingyu asks, his eyes twinkling, a smug little grin on his face.

“Why would I?” Minghao asks, rolling his eyes. “You were barely gone.”

Mingyu’s expression doesn’t falter. He leans forward, draping his weight over Minghao, pressing them together chest-to-chest.

“Really? You didn’t miss me at all?” He prods, his chin poking the center of Minghao’s chest, fingers tickling his sides. Mingyu is heavy and hard to wiggle away from, so Minghao ends up kicking his legs uselessly, still trapped. “I missed you, y’know.”

“Fine,” Minghao says, barely getting the word out between his restrained giggles. “Maybe I missed you a little.”

“I knew it,” Mingyu says, kissing the corner of Minghao’s mouth and wrapping both arms around him instead. “I kinda figured you’d still be over at Jun-hyung’s.”

“He was being a pain,” Minghao says, running his fingers through Mingyu’s neatly styled hair, doing his best to make it all stand straight up.

Mingyu leans his head slightly to the side, waiting for Minghao to continue, but he just shakes his head and smiles a little.

“Did Wonwoo-hyung let you listen to music on the way back?” He asks, eager to change the subject. There’s no way to explain to Mingyu that he got in a fight with Jun without having to explain what it was about.

“No,” Mingyu says, rolling his eyes. He lays his cheek against Minghao’s chest, eyes half open. “He put on some weird radio play and yelled at me when I tried changing it.”

Minghao laughs, draping his arms over Mingyu’s shoulders and laying his head back.

It still seems silly to be so happy to have Mingyu back in his arms after such a short time but he can’t get rid of the feeling, either.

Mingyu settles in a little more comfortably, watching whatever Minghao put on the TV, his feet hanging off the edge of the couch. After a moment, Minghao drapes his arm over Mingyu’s back, rubbing softly between his shoulders, soaking up the warmth rolling off his skin.

He might not be in such a rush to get rid of that feeling.

**{* * *}**

The suggestion that the four of them go dancing and get extremely drunk before the new semester starts is definitely another effort on Soonyoung’s part to try and get Minghao to make a move on Mingyu. He’s transparent about when he suggests it, giving a wiggle of his eyebrows and a grin.

But Minghao doesn’t really mind playing along; he can walk the line between acting like all he has is a crush and actually having a good time with his friends. Mingyu is slightly more reluctant to agree but that’s owed more to the fact that he’s clumsy than actually unwilling to go.

They let Soonyoung pick the club, a slick, posh kind of place with lots of violet neon lights and polished silver surfaces that probably wouldn’t have let them in at all if they weren’t with Soonyoung.

He’s attached to Seokmin’s side as soon as they’re through the door, a wide smile pushing his eyes into crescent moons.

“Woah, it is really big in here,” he says, leaning one of his soft cheeks against Seokmin’s shoulder. He’s not wrong— the main dance floor is the size of the big classroom Minghao has lectures in and the bar stretches the whole length of the back of the room, glass shelves with brightly lit bottles of liquor occupying the entire space.

“Don’t get lost,” Seokmin says, lacing his fingers through Soonyoung’s with a smile. Minghao rolls his eyes at their antics, and next to him Mingyu lets out a little giggle.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll get lost?” He says, elbowing Minghao’s side and smiling down at him.

“I was kinda counting on it,” Minghao says, smirking when Mingyu’s mouth turns down into a pout.

Honestly, the size of the place is kind of a relief. Even with Soonyoung casting curious looks at them, the crowd is busy enough for the two of them to get lost in. Minghao thinks he might even be able to get away with sharing a few dances with Mingyu, depending on how focused Soonyoung is later on.

He does his best to ignore the prickle in his chest at the reminder that the rest of the night he’ll have to share Mingyu with others.

“It’s hard to lose you anyway,” Seokmin says, patting Mingyu’s shoulder with a laugh. Mingyu grins, grabbing Seokmin’s other hand and lacing their fingers together.

“I want someone to hold onto me too,” he says, whining. Seokmin giggles, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Mingyu’s hand.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, holding Mingyu’s hand up still, pressing it to his chest. “Don’t worry! I’ll be your babysitter all night!”

Mingyu laughs, his whole body bending forward, and Seokmin joins him. Minghao grins as well, dragging his fingers over the small of Mingyu’s back when he pushes through the two of them, breaking the hold of their hands.

“I want a drink,” he says, cutting through the crowd toward the back of the room. The rest of them fall in behind him with Soonyoung tucked in between Seokmin and Mingyu, still holding onto Seokmin’s hand. It’s an unconscious gesture; putting an Alpha at the front and back of their little group, with Soonyoung in the center. But most pack instincts are like that— they happen even when no one involved is trying.

No one tries to pull Soonyoung or Seokmin out of their line-up, which gives Minghao a little hope for how the rest of the evening is going to go. The place is nice and he would really rather not get kicked out for punching someone in the face over Soonyoung. Again.

Minghao leans his elbows up against the bar, ordering his own drink and tipping his head slightly to the side when Mingyu takes the spot next to him. Even in the oppressive crowd, Mingyu smells a little like him and it’s incredibly satisfying, even though it shouldn’t be.

“It’s really busy here,” Mingyu says, whistling softly. He has both arms draped on the bar, his elbow brushing against Minghao’s.

Minghao hums, nodding and turning to look over the room again. “Jun-ge wanted to come here awhile ago.”

“Before he started dating Joshua?” Mingyu asks, having to press in a little closer to keep the conversation going, his voice low and close to Minghao’s ear rather than trying to shout over the pounding music.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, laughing just a little. “He won’t do anything now that he’s hitched.”

“It’s nice though,” Mingyu says, his smile soft at the corners. “You could’ve come by yourself, I guess.”

He could point out that the only reason to go to a club like this by himself is to find someone faceless to hookup with, and that he wasn’t really in the mood for it since he was so busy pining over Mingyu all the time.

“It’s more fun like this,” he says, leaning his head to the side, listening to Soonyoung lay an overly thick layer of charm on the bartender. Seokmin is just laughing along with him, one arm around Soonyoung’s waist. It’s incredibly familiar but something about it feels different this time, even though Soonyoung and Seokmin seem to be the same as always.

“You’re not gonna make me dance, are you?” Mingyu asks, his pout obvious even before Minghao looks at him once again. He has both his eyebrows lifted, lip sticking out slightly and it makes Minghao want to lean up and kiss him, just to make him laugh.

“Not yet,” Minghao says, grinning, pressing the rim of his glass to his lower lip. He can feel the way Soonyoung’s stare prickles the back of his neck but he must be expecting Minghao to flirt with Soonyoung a little bit, right?

Mingyu groans, hanging his head in despair, and Minghao pats his arm with a laugh. “You’re better at it when you’re a little drunk, anyway.”

“You just like making a fool outta me,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. He’s smiling, regardless, and Minghao grins.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. “Exactly.”

**{* * *}**

All things considered, Mingyu would say it’s been a good night. He’s not usually one for parties or clubs, but Seokmin and Soonyoung make everything fun, even though they both disappeared half an hour ago, and Minghao is in a good mood.

Mingyu is just past tipsy; enough that even though he wants to kiss Minghao even more than usual he can still remember that it’s not a good idea. He stumbles off the dance floor right after Minghao, draping both arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close, until Minghao’s back is pressed to his chest, nuzzling the side of his cheek.

“Ya,” Minghao says, giggling in spite of himself, tilting his head to the side a little to make more space for Mingyu’s head. “What are you doing?”

“I need help standing up,” Mingyu says, grinning, hands balling in Minghao’s shirt.

“Uh huh,” Minghao says, reaching a hand back toward Mingyu’s hip. He drops it to his side before he actually touches Mingyu, shaking his head. “C’mon, you haven’t had that much.”

He hasn’t, but it’s as good an excuse as any. “Do you want me to fall?”

“Only if I get to record it,” Minghao says, leaning his head back against Minghao’s shoulder. Mingyu squeezes his arms tighter for a second, feeling the steady thump of Minghao’s heart against his chest, before letting go and standing up properly.

Minghao’s smile wavers for a second, his eyes darting quickly around to check if anyone is actually paying attention to them before opening his mouth—

“Mingyu-ya?” The loud voice behind Mingyu makes him jump, blinking twice at Minghao in confusion before his brain catches up and he turns around. He knows already that the voice doesn’t belong to Soonyoung or Seokmin, but it still takes a moment for his brain to catch up on who _is_ talking to him.

But he recognizes the Omega standing a few feet away, smiling sweetly at him, one hand in his back pocket and his head tilted back slightly to make his neck seem longer. He only went out with Yoochan twice— the last date he bothered to go on before accepting that he was too wrapped up in Minghao to give anyone else any real attention.

He smiles when the confusion wears off, waving just a little. “Yoochan-ah, hi.”

Moon Yoochan is the same age as Mingyu and probably the same height as Soonyoung. He has his hair bleached blond, with only a peek of the black of his roots starting to show, and bright, sharp eyes. The two dates they actually went on made Mingyu think of him as smart and ambitious. He talked a lot about school and his family.

Mingyu probably would’ve gone out with him again if he hadn’t woken up with Minghao in his bed and realized that was exactly where he wanted to be.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Yoochan says, a few steps closer, looking up at Mingyu. He has the top two buttons of his shirt done, revealing his pale collarbone and a peek of his chest. “You’re kinda a homebody lately.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and resisting the urge to check what face Minghao is making. He’s standing stone still, a foot away, and Mingyu has no idea how to manage this conversation. He’s not sure if it would be better or worse without Minghao there to witness it. “I got dragged out by my friends, I guess.”

Minghao doesn’t say anything, and when Mingyu looks over his mouth is pressed into a straight line, eyes half-lidded— it’s the same level of Resting Bitch Face that made Mingyu scared to talk to him the first time they met.

“This is um, my roommate,” Mingyu says, trying his hardest to keep smiling in spite of the awkwardness. Minghao doesn’t smile but he does nod his head slightly, at least acknowledging the introduction.

“Xu Minghao,” he says, quick and sharp. He doesn’t extend his hand and Yoochan doesn’t either.

“Moon Yoochan,” he says, his attention immediately drifting away from Minghao after a quick up and down, stepping so he’s close enough to Mingyu for their bodies to nearly touch. “Are you busy? Do you wanna dance?”

“Um,” Mingyu says, his brain scrambling through different excuses too fast for him to pick one and just say it.

Minghao puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “We have to find our other friends, sorry.”

He doesn’t sound sorry, but at least he doesn’t sound smug about dragging Mingyu away either.

“Sorry,” Mingyu repeats, much more sincerely.

“Call me sometime,” Yoochan says, wiggling his fingers in a wave while Mingyu lets himself get dragged away.

It’s sometimes hard to tell, but he’s pretty sure that Minghao isn’t actually pissed. Or at least, not pissed at him. Rather than go off in proper search of Seokmin and Soonyoung, Minghao pulls him through the propped open back door, where a few solitary people are outside smoking in spite of the light blanket of snow on the ground and the biting cold.

His hand lingers on Mingyu’s arm, glancing back at the door, lifting half his mouth in a crooked smile. “We can hide out here for a bit.”

“You’re gonna freeze if we do,” Mingyu says, smiling a little in return. There are only two other people outside, and neither of them are looking. Mingyu opens his arms up, waving Minghao in closer.

Minghao hesitates for all of ten seconds before pressing up against Mingyu’s chest to leech off his warmth. Mingyu grins, pressing his face against the top of Minghao’s head and breathing him in for a second.

“Um, sorry about that,” he says after a moment, rubbing his palms up and down Minghao’s arms to try and keep him from getting too cold.

“My last date punched you in the face,” Minghao says, his bubble of laughter muffled in Mingyu’s shoulder. “That wasn’t quite as bad.”

Mingyu laughs as well, dropping his arms from around Minghao when the door swings open again, taking a quick step back. The smile drops off of Minghao’s face, his expression hard for a moment.

The stranger barely glances at them, digging around in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Mingyu has to resist the urge to pull Minghao back against his chest and nods gently at the door instead.

“Wanna go back in?” He asks, his breath forming a white cloud between them.

“Sure,” Minghao says, relaxing into a smile once again. “We should actually find the two of them before they get in trouble.”

Mingyu nods, wishing he could grab Minghao’s hand and lace their fingers together, or kiss the top of his head. He doesn’t do either— following him back inside and stuffing all the longing down to the pit of his stomach.

**{* * *}**

If Minghao has learned nothing else about Kim Mingyu since they moved in together, he’s realized how good Mingyu is at making a distraction of himself when he wants to.

Minghao is supposed to be coming up with ideas for his solo performance to show to Soonyoung, but instead, he’s in Mingyu’s lap, with Mingyu leaning up against his back and mouthing at the side of his neck, his breath coming out with little bits of laughter attached, tickling Minghao’s skin.

“Pay attention to me,” he whines, arms winding tight around his sides, laying his chin on Minghao’s shoulder.

“You’re a pest,” Minghao says, tossing his notebook to the side and leaning against Mingyu’s back. “You can’t let me work on this for an hour?”

“It’s _been_ an hour,” Mingyu says, sulking.

Minghao sighs, maybe a little more dramatically than he needs to, turning to kiss Mingyu’s temple with a roll of his eyes.

“Fine,” he says, reclining back against Mingyu’s chest slightly. “What do you want?”

For a moment, Mingyu doesn’t answer, looking down at where his hands are gathered together on Minghao’s stomach. Minghao leans to the side, trying to get a better look at Mingyu’s expression only to be thwarted by Mingyu hiding his face against the side of his neck.

“Don’t make me ask again,” Mingyu says, whining still. “It’s embarrassing.”

Minghao realizes after a few seconds exactly what he means.

“Are you really bothering me because you’re horny?” Minghao asks, more sharply than he actually feels.

For the past few days, Mingyu has been nudging Minghao’s self-control on the topic of sex further and further. It makes sense, he supposes. It’s too early in the semester for either of them to be really busy, and having Mingyu leave for two weeks and come back with plenty of pent-up energy hasn’t exactly made it easier to say no.

And it isn’t that Minghao doesn’t _want_ to. He does, absolutely, but he also knows Mingyu doesn’t have any experience with another Alpha and the whole thing is… intimidating. It’d be a lie to say he’s not scared that Mingyu will hate it, or he’ll change his mind about Minghao after. He’s scared of doing the wrong thing; of pushing Mingyu too fast.

“You are too,” Mingyu says, mumbling against the side of his neck, mouth wandering to the side of Minghao’s jaw. Minghao can’t keep himself from shivering, tilting his head slightly to let Mingyu nibble at his skin more easily.

He can’t exactly deny that— there’s no way Mingyu isn’t smelling the thick surge of pheromones in the air, bright and enticing, coming from the both of them.

Worried as he is, Minghao doesn’t have the wherewithal to shove Mingyu off for the third day in a row. It’s not like they’re awkward teenagers fumbling their way into each other’s pants for the first time, after all. Mingyu is old enough and experienced enough to decide what he wants.

“Fine,” Minghao says, sitting up and flipping himself over in Mingyu’s grasp, his knees pressing the bed, looking at Mingyu with a little grin.

Mingyu’s cheeks go pink but he doesn’t lose his nerve, a grin spreading on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, planting his hands on Mingyu’s shoulders and pushing him flat against the mattress. He’s trying to sound much less interested than he actually feels— like there’s not a massive tangle of anticipation and heat in the pit of his stomach. He slides his hands down from Mingyu’s shoulders, over his chest, leaning over him with a slight furrow in his brow.

“Finally,” Mingyu says, leaning his head back with a little laugh. Minghao huffs, nipping at the side of his neck instead of voicing his objections. He leans over, pressing them together chest-to-chest, grabbing Mingyu’s chin in one hand to pull him into a kiss.

Mingyu makes a quiet surprised sound, opening his mouth to the press of Minghao’s tongue without trying to resist. One of his arms hooks around Minghao’s neck, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, holding him there while Minghao nips at his lower lip. He sucks on it until Mingyu keens a little, pulling back only to breathe out a heavy sigh against Mingyu’s mouth, still holding onto his chin.

“You’re a pain,” he says, tilting Mingyu’s face to one side, latching his mouth to the bottom of Mingyu’s chin instead. He drags his teeth over the sensitive skin, sucking in heavy breaths of the heavy wave of pheromones that hits his tongue as soon as he does. Mingyu doesn’t answer, his fingers gripping tighter onto Minghao’s back, arching slightly to press them together a little more.

Minghao pushes back against him, grinding their hips together more out of instinct than anything else. He’s too busy resisting the urge to leave marks all along the golden skin of Mingyu’s neck to make sure other people know that it’s _his_ territory to resist the need to rut their hips together. He can feel the beginnings of where Mingyu is hard in his sweats and he rolls his hips forward again, biting down on a pleased sound when the angle lines up a little better this time.

He drags his mouth over Mingyu’s collarbone, releasing his face to push both hands under his shirt, dragging it up over his stomach. He sits up just enough to give Mingyu the space to pull it off, leaning in to kiss him again when he pushes himself upright. Mingyu’s fingers comb through his hair, hand lingering at the back of Minghao’s neck to stroke two fingers along the bumpy line of his vertebrae. It’s a quick, small touch but it still makes Minghao shiver a little, pushing his tongue past Mingyu’s teeth.

Mingyu pulls his shirt up as well and Minghao ducks his head to make it easier for Mingyu to pull off. He pauses like that for a second, trying to calm the ragged pace of his breathing. It’s a struggle to remember that he has to take this slow, as much as the desire to flip Mingyu on his stomach and just _take_ distracts him. Mingyu bumps his forehead against Minghao’s, a grin on his face and it softens some of the hard edges of all the desire that Minghao has been swallowing down for months.

This time when he pulls away, Minghao is smiling a little, digging in his drawer for the lube that he keeps there. It’s seen plenty of use in the last few weeks— there’s plenty for the two of them to do short of actually fucking, after all. Mingyu flops onto his back on his own this time, looking up at Minghao with his lip trapped between his teeth, sweatpants starting to ride down his hips and the obvious outline of his cock tenting up against the soft fabric.

It would make a nice picture, Minghao thinks, with the afternoon light streaming across his bed and the little pink marks of his teeth littering Mingyu’s throat. He pushes the thought out of his mind, using his palms to spread Mingyu’s legs a little further apart, curving his palm over his cock through the pants and rubbing it with a slow smile. Mingyu’s hips arch upward, pushing into Minghao’s hand and letting his eyes fall half-lidded.

“You wanna get fucked that bad?” Minghao asks, teasing his thumb under the ridge of Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu nods, whimpering softly from the back of his throat. It’s doing way, way too much for Minghao’s ego— the thought that he can make such a mess out of Mingyu by doing so little. He growls slightly, softly, the sound slipping out between his teeth before he can stop it.

Before he can open his mouth to apologize for it, Mingyu’s face flushes bright red and he melts against the bed, leaning his head back and stretching out the long line of his neck, quiet and submissive. Minghao is stuck staring at him for several seconds, all the thoughts in his head pulled thin and useless. He wasn’t trying to make Mingyu submit, nor would he have expected it to be so easy. He gives in to the tugging in the center of his chest, folding forward to kiss him, slow and soft. It’s as much an apology as it is appreciation.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his lips still pressed against Mingyu’s. He dips his head, sliding his tongue up Mingyu’s throat, pausing to set his teeth against the rapid-fire thudding of his pulse. He doesn’t dig them in hard, just rests his mouth on the spot, teasing Mingyu further with the slight, unsatisfying pressure of the bite.

Mingyu groans, squirming underneath Minghao, his hands grasping and releasing the sheets restlessly. “Just… ah, fuck.”

Minghao decides not to take the chance to tease Mingyu about his suddenly lacking vocabulary. He pulls Mingyu’s sweats down, fingers hooking in the elastic and leaving them around his thighs, teasing his thumb over the damp patch of fabric sticking Mingyu’s cock to his underwear. Mingyu sighs, almost like the touch is a relief, his body going taut as he pushes up into Minghao’s hand once again.

Reluctantly, Minghao releases his loose grasp on Mingyu’s throat, pulling his clothes off properly now, sitting between Mingyu’s thighs and tilting his head to the side for a moment, appreciating the way Mingyu’s cock curves up against his belly, a pearly dot of precome clinging to the tip. 

Somehow, Mingyu manages to look both smug and shy staring up at Minghao in return. It’s the kind of look that only he could pull off, probably and it makes Minghao grin to himself. He grabs the lube from where he dropped it before, pushing Mingyu’s legs gently further apart.

“Are you sure you want me to…?” Minghao trails off, swiping his tongue over his lower lip, trying to ignore the hungry coil in the middle of his stomach that’s telling him it’s already too late to stop himself.

Mingyu nods, quick and sharp, sliding both hands down his chest, fingers teasing the head of his cock with a whine. “I swear if you don’t fuck me I’m going to go insane.”

It gives Minghao one less thing to worry about, at least. Mingyu needs less coaching this time; pulling his hand off of his cock with a reluctant sound in the back of his throat, keeping his legs spread apart to make space for Minghao between them.

Minghao spreads a thick layer of lube over his fingers, taking his time to warm it between them before rubbing slowly over the tight ring of Mingyu’s muscles. Mingyu shivers, another wave of tension rolling through his muscles and rather than scolding him for it Minghao bends forward, using his other hand to hold the base of Mingyu’s cock, wrapping his lips around it.

Mingyu gasps, sharp and strangled, but Minghao ignores it. He teases the sensitive slit of Mingyu’s cock with his tongue, still teasing two slick fingers around his rim. Mingyu relaxes into it quickly, his fingers catching in Minghao’s hair, grip getting tighter when one of Minghao’s fingers breaches his hole.

For a moment, Minghao is caught between keeping Mingyu’s cock in his mouth and taking the time to tell him he’s doing well. He sticks with the first, bobbing his head shallowly and sliding his finger in up to the last knuckle, feeling the tight squeeze of Mingyu’s muscles. Mingyu grunts, his eyes half-closed, pushing his hips weakly up toward the heat of Minghao’s mouth.

He waits until Mingyu is bearing down against his wrist, trying to push Minghao’s singular digit in deeper, before lining up the second and pressing it in slowly. Mingyu’s leg jerks, almost kicking Minghao’s thigh, gasping when his muscles stretch around the intrusion.

“There you go,” Minghao says, his voice low, lips hovering just above Mingyu’s cock. “You’re doing so good. Just stay relaxed for me.”

Mingyu nods, whimpering when Minghao spreads his fingers carefully apart. “’M good.”

Minghao smothers the bottom of his stomach in small kisses, keeping the pace of his fingers pushing in and out of Mingyu slow. Mingyu’s impatience start to show through, rolling his hips back against Minghao’s fingers, his lips parted to make the passage of his ragged breaths easier.

Before he presses the tip of a third finger against Mingyu’s rim, Minghao ducks his head and wraps his lips messily around Mingyu’s cock once again. Mingyu groans, arching up into it, his voice straining when Minghao’s finger slides in, stretching him further. His legs squeeze around Minghao, knees digging into his ribs, his whole body arching away from the bed. Minghao moves his hand from holding Mingyu’s cock steady to pushing down on his hip, trying to hold him in place.

He curls his fingers, pressing the pads of them against Mingyu’s prostate. Mingyu jolts, whimpering before pushing back down against Minghao’s hand. He keeps them there, rubbing gently for a few seconds before pulling away again. He pulls his mouth off of Mingyu’s cock, giving the tip one last lick as he goes, rubbing little circles in Mingyu’s hip with his thumb.

Minghao chews the inside of his cheek, pulling his fingers out slowly and hooking his thumbs in the waist of his joggers, hesitating before shoving them down.

“You’re probably gonna feel kinda weird,” Minghao says, stroking the outside of Mingyu’s thigh. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I want you to _start_ ,” Mingyu says, his lower lip stuck out in a dramatic pout. Minghao laughs in spite of himself, rolling Mingyu onto his side rather than on his back. He straddles one of Mingyu’s legs, pushing the other up and out of the way, giving his thigh a squeeze before flipping open the cap of the lube again and emptying an overly generous amount into one of his palms, slicking it over his cock with a soft hiss.

He’s still careful, lining his cock up against the stretched muscles of Mingyu’s hole, pressing a little kiss to the cap of Mingyu’s knee before slowly pushing in. Mingyu groans, his spine stretched long and taut, grabbing one of the pillows and pulling it closer to bury his face in it, muffling the series of short growls that get lodged in his throat. Minghao slides his cock in until his hips are resting against Mingyu’s, rubbing up and down his thigh, sucking several shaking breaths into his lungs to try and ease the collapsing feeling in his chest.

Mingyu’s body is almost oppressively tight around him, refusing to relax and make room for the intrusion of Minghao’s cock. Mingyu groans into the soft fabric of the pillow, his voice thready, nails sliding uselessly over the sheets.

“Just relax,” Minghao says, trying to sound soothing and not at all like he might faint at any moment. The overwhelming temptation to _move_ hooks into his spine and Minghao bites sharply on his lower lip, resting his forehead against Mingyu’s knee for a moment.

“S- sorry,” Mingyu says, several long breaths rasping out of his lungs before he manages to speak again. “’M okay. It’s just a lot.”

“I got you,” Minghao says, running his fingers up and down the outside of Mingyu’s leg. “Breathe for me, okay?”

Mingyu nods, his lips parted as he pants, his breathing starting to even out once again. Minghao’s legs are shaking with the effort of holding still for so long with Mingyu wrapped hot and perfect around him.

“Okay, okay,” Mingyu says, nodding his head weakly. “Can you just…”

Mingyu doesn’t finish but Minghao nods his head anyway, sawing his hips back until he’s half-buried in Mingyu’s ass, pushing forward once again. Mingyu bites his lip, his thigh trembling in Minghao’s grasp.

Minghao does his best to keep the rhythm of his hips slow— rutting shallowly in and out until Mingyu moans softly, pushing his hips weakly back against Minghao’s. It’s even more of a surprise when he lets go of the pillow, letting his head loll back against the bed, the whole of his throat and belly exposed and vulnerable.

It’s mostly instinct that makes Minghao pull out, rolling Mingyu onto his back and gripping both his thighs to keep his legs out of the way. Mingyu whines, reaching up with both long arms to pull Mingyu against his chest and Minghao goes along with it easily, mouthing kisses along his collarbone and neck, pushing his cock in again.

“There you go,” he says, his voice low and uneven, lips still pressed into Mingyu’s skin. “You’re so perfect for me.”

The sound Mingyu makes in response is soft and faltering but Minghao wants to preserve it in his mind for the rest of his life.

He fucks Mingyu slow and hard, licking thin lines of sweat off of his neck. As much faith as Mingyu has in him to be the more experienced one Minghao has never had another Alpha actually _submit_ to him in bed before. It requires a level of trust that doesn’t come along with one night stands and it wedges itself in the space between Minghao’s ribs.

Seeing Mingyu like this, open and pliant, doesn’t puff up Minghao’s ego. He feels strangely exposed himself— layers of distance that he’s become used to over the years suddenly peeled back. He presses his forehead against Mingyu’s shoulder, hands flat on the bed to support his weight, rolling their hips together and grinding the blunt head of his cock against Mingyu’s prostate. 

Mingyu shudders, his nails dragging thin lines down Minghao’s shoulders, trying to pull him even closer. He can feel Mingyu’s cock, trapped between the two of them, leaking a sticky pool of precome onto Mingyu’s stomach. Mingyu jerks his hips up in small, quick shoves, trying to grind friction against his dick without breaking Minghao’s rhythm. 

Minghao nips at Mingyu’s jaw, pressing a messy, open-mouthed kiss against his lips. There’s no real focus behind it, just the uneven exchange of air between their mouthes. Minghao works one hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Mingyu’s cock and pumping it with flicks of his wrist.

Underneath him Mingyu groans, tossing his head back and shoving up into Minghao’s hand, his eyes fluttering shut. Minghao doesn’t need Mingyu to say anything to realize he’s hovering right on the edge— his whole body is shaking, and every time Minghao fucks his hips forward Mingyu hiccups a little sound, almost like a sob. He tightens his grasp on Mingyu’s cock, rubbing his thumb in slow circles around the sensitive tip.

“Are you gonna come for me, Mingyu?” Minghao says, a little grin on his face, shoving his cock in all the way and grinding his hips against Mingyu’s in a slow circle. Mingyu’s body jerks twice, the muscles of his stomach twitching before he groans, long and low, tossing one arm across his face.

Mingyu’s hole squeezes tighter, the muscles fluttering when he comes, covering Minghao’s knuckles and his stomach. Minghao grits his teeth, rolling his hips slowly to work Mingyu through his orgasm, fighting the urge to bury himself in Mingyu’s ass until his knot locks them together.

He pulls out when it starts to flare up, nails digging into Mingyu’s thigh, wrapping his already come stained fingers around his own dick and stroking himself fast and without rhythm. He’s too close for it to really matter, biting down on his lip to muffle a groan, his come adding to the mess on Mingyu’s tummy.

Minghao drops to the side before his legs give out on him, his back against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. Mingyu still has his arm covering half his face, his chest heaving so quickly it looks almost painful. It gives Minghao a few seconds, however, to admire exactly how much a mess he’s made of Mingyu; covered in come, his hair stuck to his face, a layer of sweat covering his whole body. His rim is still pink and open and it takes all of Minghao’s will not to press his fingers inside again to feel him.

“Holy fuck,” Mingyu says, stretching his arm out over his head, turning to look at Minghao with a wide, loose grin on his face.

It makes Minghao smile, pressing his forehead against Mingyu’s shoulder, pulling him in close in spite of the tacky puddle of come on his skin. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mingyu hums, draping his arms around Minghao and nuzzling at the top of his head. “That was awesome.”

“You’re gonna be less thrilled tomorrow,” Minghao says, massaging Mingyu’s hip with his thumb. He’s happy to hear it, anyway.

“I’ll just make you take care of me all day,” Mingyu says, tucking his head under Minghao’s chin. Minghao rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, stroking the small of Mingyu’s back.

“You’re gonna have to let me clean you up,” Minghao says after a few minutes when all the sweat stuck to his skin has become cool and sticky. Mingyu whines, nuzzling in closer, shaking his head.

“Don’t move, please,” Mingyu says, his voice unexpectedly serious. Minghao blinks, starting to lean back to look down at him only to be stopped by Mingyu clinging onto him even tighter. “Please.”

“Okay,” Minghao says, more softly than before. He pets his fingers through Mingyu’s messy hair, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll stay here with you.”

“Sorry,” Mingyu says sheepishly, his fingers spread wide on Minghao’s back, touching as much skin as he can. “I’m just… I want you here.”

It’s probably just an after effect of posturing himself submissively for another Alpha. That’s what Minghao tells himself, at least. Mingyu is clingy anyway.

But the little smile Mingyu shoots him wedges itself between Minghao’s ribs along with everything else and stays there— a heavy weight he can’t forget.


	13. about the distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you hiding something from us, Mingyu-ya?”
> 
> Mingyu’s stomach drops like he’s swallowed a ball of lead. He’s sure that if Seokmin had let the truth slip to Soonyoung on accident that they would’ve heard about it in much grander fashion than this. Soonyoung isn’t the type to sit long on information.
> 
> “No,” Mingyu says, trying to ignore the guilty dryness of his mouth. He’s never been much of a liar, no matter how hard he tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up that there's a single use of the f-slur in the last scene of this chapter. It's not directed at any svts, but it is there!

The first days of a new semester are never really Mingyu’s favorite. Especially in winter, he hates the idea of leaving his warm bed to drag himself through the snow for class, of all things.

He’s even less excited now that his warm bed sometimes has Minghao in it, who somehow ended up with just afternoon classes and refuses to be dragged out of bed when Mingyu’s alarm goes off just after nine in the morning.

Still, he’s awake, and Mingyu can feel his sleepy, curious stare poking at his back.

“Are you evaluating my outfit?” Mingyu asks, glancing over his shoulder. Minghao smiles, part of it obscured by the blanket he has pulled around his face.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice still scratchy with sleep. “You should wear your black boots though.”

Mingyu laughs, running his fingers through his hair, his nose wrinkling a little when he smiles. Minghao nuzzles his way back under the blanket and even though it’s the first day, Mingyu wants to skip class just to lay around and kiss Minghao for a while longer.

He can’t, though, and he ducks his head forward to zip his hoodie up instead, pulling the hem around his hips.

“Have fun,” Minghao says, his voice already trailing off back to sleep. Mingyu bites the center of his lip to keep from laughing, tugging the blanket back just enough to let him bend over and nuzzle his cheek against Minghao’s.

“This again?” Minghao asks, his voice a grumble, peeking his dark eyes open.

“What?” Mingyu says, widening his eyes and trying to look innocent.

“Are you gonna break into my room to scent mark me before class too or is it just when I sleep in here?” Minghao says, lifting his eyebrows a little.

Mingyu’s face flushes, still leaning over, a guilty smile climbing on his face.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he says, rubbing his cheek against Minghao’s a little more aggressively. Minghao giggles, probably in spite of himself, flipping his head in the other direction so Mingyu can keep going.

His cheeks are still glowing pink when he finishes, pulling away and looking down at Minghao with a smile. Minghao still has his eyes only half-open and one of his hands is curled up on the top of the pillow next to him.

Mingyu’s chest feels tight around his heart for a moment.

“Don’t be late,” Minghao says, flipping the blanket back over his head. Mingyu drags himself away, still reluctant to go, slinging his bag over his shoulder and stepping out into the cold outer world, still carrying a great deal of warmth in the middle of his chest.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu has snowflakes clinging to his hair by the time he makes it to his class, just narrowly managing to be on time. He’s too late, however, to get a good seat and instead he slides into an open chair next to the first familiar face he sees.

A face that belongs to, as it turns out, Moon Yoochan. He looks over, smiling when Mingyu settles into the seat, the sleeves of his black sweater pulled up around the tips of his fingers.

“Mingyu-ya,” he says, bright and surprised, leaning his chin on his palm. “I didn’t realize I’d be seeing so much of you again.”

Mingyu hazards a smile, small and close-mouthed. It’s not that he doesn’t like Yoochan, but he can’t quite swallow down the feeling that being around him now will always be just a little bit awkward. It’s stranger, running into him and not being able to just explain that he’s seeing someone else now.

“Morning,” he says, rather than responding more directly. It’s hard to know what he should say.

He’s saved by the professor at the front of the room rapping gently on the board to get all of their attention, beginning the process of launching into over explaining the syllabus.

Mingyu sinks down in his chair and does his best not to fall asleep, his chin resting against his chest. He must smell a little more like Minghao than expected because when he shifts he catches the quick motion of Yoochan’s nostrils flaring from the corner of his eye. He blinks twice, like he’s confused, casting a quick glance at Mingyu.

He doesn’t usually feel _bad_ about leaving the house with Minghao’s scent clinging to him. They live together— it’s expected that they’re going to have more mingled scents than two Alphas usually would.

Besides, it’s not like scenting Minghao is inherently romantic. He could do the same to Seokmin or Soonyoung or Wonwoo if he wanted to; marking them out as a pack. It only stands out because Minghao is an Alpha.

Lately, Mingyu’s been more and more frustrated by these things. At first, he couldn’t really understand why Minghao would be so motivated to keep their relationship a secret, but it’s starting to make more sense. He’s starting to feel crushed by the expectations of the people around him; his parents asking if he’s seeing a nice Omega, people joking about how he and Minghao must want to rip each other’s throats out over every little thing. 

“You look tired,” Yoochan says, keeping his voice quiet, jolting Mingyu out of his morose train of thought. “Maybe I should bring you a coffee next time.”

“Ah,” Mingyu says, sitting up straighter and rubbing at his eyes. “I just have to get used to getting up again.”

Yoochan nods, toying with a thread of his sweater, making the fabric rub across the delicate skin of his wrist. He’s still smiling, his head tilted slightly in Mingyu’s direction.

“I was gonna go get some after this,” he says, glancing at the board and then back over at Mingyu. “If you wanna come. My treat since we didn’t have a chance to get a drink the other night.”

The offer makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into anxious knots.

“I have another class right after,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck, wishing he wasn’t suddenly so nervous. He’s not even really lying, though he has fifteen minutes to kill in between lectures.

“Another time then,” Yoochan says, lifting one of his thin shoulders in a shrug.

Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say so he just nods. It’s not bad though— Yoochan is friendly. Mingyu’s the one making it weird. He does his best to remind himself to just relax. It’s coffee, after all, not an invitation to a five-star restaurant. 

“Sure,” he says after a moment, slumping back in the seat once more, still waiting for the hour to end. “Some other time.”

**{* * *}**

For all the years they’ve known each other, Jun and Minghao have started to fight like siblings do. They don’t go out of their way to apologize— just wait for things to settle down on their own.

So as it is, the week and a half that Minghao goes without hearing from Jun feel like a long time. He’s pretty much forgotten to be mad.

That’s why it’s not really a surprise when Jun lets himself in the door of the apartment without bothering to knock, bringing in a blast of cold air and a flurry of snow behind him. Minghao looks up from his quiz and lifts an eyebrow before smiling.

“You’re supposed to knock,” he says, rolling his eyes when Jun just shrugs and kicks his shoes off before climbing onto the couch. He sits with his legs tucked up close to his chest, chin resting on top of his knees.

“Xiao Hao,” he says, when Minghao turns back to the quiz he really should be taking. Jun’s voice is hushed but excited, and when Minghao looks up his eyes are bright and round. “I think I’m in love.”

That gets the rest of Minghao’s attention. He shuts his laptop carefully, setting it on the table next to him. There’s little chance of actually getting through a conversation like this without giving into Jun’s need to cling all the time.

“With Joshua?”

Jun huffs, reaching out to poke Minghao’s cheek with one bony finger.

“Don’t make light of my heart,” he says, nearly sounding serious about it. “I just told you I’m in love.”

“I know,” Minghao says, fighting the urge to grin. “I’m just making sure.”

“I’ve never been in love before,” Jun says, acting like Minghao hadn’t said anything at all.

As much fun as it is to tease, Minghao bites back the first question that jumps into his mouth. _How would you know, then?_ Some part of him is strangely nervous to know the answer to that.

“Did you tell Joshua?” Minghao asks, draping his arm over the back of the couch and managing not to roll his eyes when Jun wedges himself in closer, knees pulled toward his chest, making himself more compact than should really be possible with his long limbs.

“Not yet,” Jun says, tapping his fingers on the tops of his knees. “It’s a lot to bring up out of the blue.”

“I guess,” Minghao says, nodding slowly.

“I’m going to though,” Jun says, cutting a look from the corner of his eye in Minghao’s direction. “I’m not like you are.”

“What’d I do?” Minghao says, aiming his elbow at Jun’s ribs. Jun yelps, wiggling away and shaking his head.

“I’m just saying,” Jun says, a teasing sparkle in his eyes. “You’re not really comfortable with your feelings.”

Minghao could argue that with him, but he’s had enough of fighting with Jun for the time being. He leaves it alone instead, pushing his bangs out of his face.

“Are you telling him tonight?” Minghao asks. Jun’s teeth catch around his lower lip, shaking his head.

“He’s helping Jeonghan move in with Seungcheol,” Jun says, waving his hand in the air with a little sigh. “And I don’t wanna just… spring it on him.”

“Why are they moving in together?” Minghao asks, his forehead wrinkling in surprise. It seems like an odd choice in the middle of the year for two people who already had other accommodations.

“Because most people start dating and _then_ move in together,” Jun says, rolling his eyes.

It takes maybe too long for Minghao’s brain to finish putting these pieces together.

“They’re dating?” He asks, his too loud.

It’s stupid, maybe, for Minghao to be so surprised to hear that there are other people in gay relationships but he’s used to hiding himself and not so accustomed to other people who aren’t so afraid.

“Yeah, for like, two years,” Jun says, rolling his eyes and poking Minghao’s cheek. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice before. It’s not a secret.”

Even though he knows that’s not how Jun means it, the reminder still stings.

“I wasn’t paying that much attention, I guess,” Minghao says, sinking back into the couch with a sigh. He feels funny— light and heavy all at once and after a moment, Jun seems to catch onto the dip in his mood.

“It’s not so bad, y’know,” Jun says, nudging his shoulder against Minghao’s. His voice is coaxing— like he’s trying to tempt a stray cat to take food. Minghao scowls and Jun sighs, apparently deciding not to push it further for once. “Fine. Back to talking about my feelings, not yours.”

“Are you nervous about telling him?” Minghao asks, glad for the change in topic. Jun hums, nodding his head, giggling a little bit. Jun is generally good at covering for his nerves, but after all the years he’s known Jun, the signs are easy to recognize. His whole body is buzzing with nervous energy and he keeps wiggling around like he can’t find a comfortable spot to sit on the couch.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me,” he says with a little bit of laughter. He can’t even imagine trying to do it himself.

Not, he reminds himself firmly, that he’s in love with Mingyu, to begin with.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, patting the back of Jun’s head with a little laugh. Jun smiles, leaning into Minghao’s hand and Minghao tries to come up with something more comforting to say.

He should tell Jun that Joshua will definitely return his feelings, probably, but that feels like stepping over the line. He thinks Joshua will but he doesn’t know their relationship well enough to actually say.

(Even if he did, Minghao probably wouldn’t be able to recognize it anyway. Love is strange and elusive and Minghao understands it just as well as he understands astrophysics.)

“Don’t strain yourself,” Jun teases, pitching to the side and leaning his head against Minghao’s shoulder. “If you think about romance too hard your head might blow up.”

“Shut up,” Minghao says, holding his arm out of the way to let Jun make himself comfortable.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu can’t help but think Minghao’s dislike for winter is cute. He scowls at snow and layers leggings under his jeans and cuddles himself into his biggest puffy coat with a deadly look painted across his face. Mingyu is so endeared by all his blustering attitude that he spends most of his time wanting to pull Minghao into his own jacket or breathe warmth over his slim fingers.

So the fact that they’re standing in line outside of the theater with Seokmin and Soonyoung is currently making Mingyu’s life a little difficult. Minghao has the lower half of his face hidden behind a mask and then a scarf, but Mingyu can still see the downward pull of his muscles and the furrow between his eyebrows. He has both hands stuffed into his pockets and snowflakes have just started to collect in his black hair like wayward bits of light, sparkling just slightly under the street lamps.

Mingyu, on the other hand, isn’t so cold or so troubled by the snow or the breeze. He’s more bothered by how much he wants to pull Minghao in close and brush snow away from his hair or squeeze his hand to see how cold it is.

Soonyoung keeps glancing at the two of them out of the corner of his eye and Mingyu isn’t sure if that’s because he suspects something is up or because he’s hoping to see signs that Minghao might finally make a move. Seokmin has sworn up and down that he hasn’t said a word to Soonyoung, and judging by how dense their senior can be, Mingyu figures it’ll be a while before Soonyoung puts things together on his own.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Minghao says, his voice muffled by the layers of fabric covering his mouth.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mingyu says, pasting the most innocent look he can manage on his face. “It was Seok-ah’s idea.”

“Don’t say that,” Seokmin says, pointing at Mingyu with a barely restrained smile on his face. “You agreed that you wanted to see the movie too.”

“I didn’t think there’d be a line,” Mingyu whines, grabbing Seokmin’s wrist and pulling the Beta in against his chest instead. He goes along easily, slipping his arms under Mingyu’s jacket and looking up with a pout on his face.

“You’re just using me for my body.”

“You’re right,” Mingyu says, wrapping his arms around Seokmin’s waist to make it hard for him to escape. Seokmin struggles for a grand total of thirty seconds before giving up and burrowing closer under the warm layers of Mingyu’s clothes.

“Someone else is going to take care of Soonie-hyung,” Seokmin says, trying to make his voice low and mournful. It’s ruined, slightly, by the little bursts of giggles he has to swallow down. “I’ve been claimed now.”

In spite of the cold, even Minghao is laughing. It’s all a funny reminder though how much longing Mingyu can feel for something he already has.

He lets go of Seokmin when the line moves up, returning to standing shoulder to shoulder with Minghao, just far enough apart so they aren’t touching.

“I can hear your bones shaking, I think,” Mingyu says, poking at Minghao’s side. “Do you want Seok-ah’s jacket?”

It’s not like Minghao isn’t already wearing the biggest coat he owns. Seokmin shakes his head, pulling his jacket tighter around his chest with a frown.

“I don’t wanna freeze either,” he says, wrinkling his nose. Mingyu is pretty sure that Minghao is glaring at the both of them, but with all the winter gear piled around his face, it’s hard to tell for sure.

“Do you want him to freeze?” Mingyu says, puffing his cheeks out in a pout.

Seokmin nudges Mingyu’s calf with his foot, shaking his head once again. “Give up your jacket if you’re so worried.”

Mingyu thinks about the last time he let Minghao wear his clothes and does his best not to smile.

“Fine,” he says, tugging the zipper of his coat open and shrugging it off his shoulders, tilting his chin up in defiance. “Since I’m the only gentleman here, I’ll let him wear mine.”

There’s a slight furrow to Soonyoung’s brow but it melts into a smile in a second and Mingyu doesn’t worry about it. There’s no reason to think it’s anything deeper than teasing Minghao.

He drapes the jacket over Minghao’s shoulders, snowflakes sticking to the knit fabric of his sweater as they tumble softly toward the ground. Minghao shoots him a look from the corner of his eye.

“If you catch a cold,” he says, muffled by the fabric covering his face. “I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Mingyu says, patting Minghao’s back. “I don’t get sick easy like you do.”

It doesn’t take that much longer for them to get inside— which is good because Mingyu has a hard time not wrapping his arms around Minghao’s obscured waist and nuzzling into his snow-damp hair the whole time they’re outside. Minghao shrugs the jacket off and hands it to Mingyu, his own coat and scarf coming after. There’s still a pink flush on his cheeks from the wind and Mingyu appreciates how cute that is too.

“Someone owes me a snack,” Minghao grumbles, flexing his fingers like he’s trying to restore the feeling to them, shooting a little glare in Mingyu’s direction.

“Fine,” Mingyu says, quick to agree with whatever he wants.

He might not be allowed to call what they’re doing a _date_ but that won’t stop him from trying to make it feel like one. Minghao smiles crookedly, bumping Mingyu’s elbow with his own before pointing out exactly what kind of candy he wants and sending Mingyu off to buy it for him.

He’s surprised by the gentle grip of Soonyoung’s hand on his sweater, hanging off Mingyu’s sleeve while he follows along behind him, face squished up in a smile.

“Are you getting snacks too, hyung?” Mingyu asks, leaning his head curiously to the side. Soonyoung nods then proceeds to immediately push himself in front of Mingyu in the line.

“I heard you’re not going to your date parties anymore,” Soonyoung says, leaning back on his heels, tipping his head back to look up at Mingyu properly.

“They’re called mixers,” Mingyu says, chuckling a little. “I guess I haven’t been in a while, yeah.”

“Wonwoo-ya mentioned it,” Soonyoung says, tilting his eyebrows up suggestively, grinning now. “Are you hiding something from us, Mingyu-ya?”

Mingyu’s stomach drops like he’s swallowed a ball of lead. He’s sure that if Seokmin had let the truth slip to Soonyoung on accident that they would’ve heard about it in much grander fashion than this. Soonyoung isn’t the type to sit long on information.

“No,” Mingyu says, trying to ignore the guilty dryness of his mouth. He’s never been much of a liar, no matter how hard he tries.

“You can tell me anything you want!” Soonyoung says, taking a step forward in line, turning around to grin up at Mingyu now. “I seriously won’t tell anybody, okay? Did you stop going because you like Minghao-ya?”

The sheer relief that washes over him makes Mingyu laugh, though it comes out a little awkward. He rubs at the back of his neck, trying to put his mind back together enough to come up with something to say.

Soonyoung must take his awkwardness as a confirmation rather than the release of Mingyu’s building panic because he jabs his elbow into Mingyu’s side and laughs, his eyes nearly invisible behind his cheeks.

“I knew I had it right!” He says, glancing past Mingyu at where Seokmin and Minghao are probably still standing. “Are you gonna tell him?”

Mingyu doesn’t turn to look as well only through plenty of effort. The whole topic makes him nervous, even if Soonyoung seems perfectly pleased to have figured Mingyu’s supposed secret out.

“I, um, don’t think so,” Mingyu says, nudging Soonyoung up to the counter to order his snacks. Soonyoung orders then turns back to Mingyu, undeterred.

“Why not? Isn’t it kinda hard to live with someone you have a crush on and not say anything?” Soonyoung says, frowning just a little in Mingyu’s direction. “I bet you’ll feel better if you just get it off your chest.”

Mingyu lets loose a silent prayer for incredibly quick service. At least once they get into the actual theater it’ll be much harder for Soonyoung to keep monitoring them or pressing Mingyu to confess his feelings. He means well, of course, but after seeing how panicked Minghao was over just Seokmin finding out, Mingyu doesn’t want to risk making things worse.

“I don’t wanna make him feel weird,” Mingyu says, going through the list of excuses he carefully picked out after Wonwoo was able to tease the truth out of him so easily. “And we’re best friends, y’know.”

Soonyoung takes his overly large popcorn from the person behind the counter, sighing when Mingyu orders snacks for both himself and Minghao, popping a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth while Mingyu waits.

“Are you just gonna wait it out?” Soonyoung says, sounding dubious. “That’s no fun.”

“Ah, I think it’ll be okay,” Mingyu says, chewing the corner of his lip. From the corner of his eye, he can see Minghao and he can only hope that doesn’t make his discomfort any more obvious than it already is.

Mingyu balances the boxes of candy carefully in one hand and Soonyoung also casts a little glance at Minghao.

“It makes sense that you’re kinda nervous,” Soonyoung says, dropping his voice even lower like Minghao is somehow even more likely to hear them talking now. “But you guys get along really well, right? You don’t even like… try to kill each other over the remote and stuff.”

Mingyu tries and fails to stop the nervous giggle that builds up in his throat. He doesn’t want to agree but he can’t tell Soonyoung he’s exactly wrong, either.

“I think it would be cool if you guys started dating,” Soonyoung says, giving Mingyu a sly glance before walking off back to Soonyoung.

Mingyu breathes out the smallest sigh of relief he can manage, handing the box of candy over to Minghao and hoping he doesn’t look quite as close to the edge of panic as he feels. Minghao gives him a curious look but doesn’t say anything, his gaze cutting over to Soonyoung’s back for just a second.

**{* * *}**

It’s not until after the movie is over and Seokmin and Soonyoung have both been dropped back at Soonyoung’s apartment that Mingyu brings the topic up, clearing his throat twice nervously.

“Soonyoung-hyung asked if I have a crush on you,” he says, staring at the dark road ahead of him, fingers tight around the wheel.

“Did he?” Minghao asks, sounding caught between amused and something else… worried maybe? Mingyu can’t tell for sure.

“Well, he guessed is more like it,” Mingyu says, giggling nervously. “He was telling me I should talk to you about it.”

“That little sneak,” Minghao says, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. He fiddles with the silver fabric of the seatbelt. “He’s not supposed to tell you anything.”

“I think he just means well,” Mingyu says, stealing a glance at Minghao out of the corner of his eye. “Since he knows how you feel. I guess I’m being too obvious, though. I’m sorry.”

Minghao seems to take a long minute to think that over, the shadows of the car obscuring most of the look on his face.

“I guess I should be surprised it even took him this long,” he says, his fingers twitching. He chews on the side of one of his nails for a second, the same way Mingyu has seen him do with a pen while he’s thinking.

“I can try and do a better job of hiding—”

“We should just tell him, I guess,” Minghao says, speaking at the same time.

It takes Mingyu a moment to process exactly what he’s saying but when he does it nearly makes him jump in surprise. “What?”

“I mean, Seokmin and Wonwoo already know so he doesn’t have anyone to tell,” Minghao says, sinking back in the seat like he’s waiting for it to swallow him up. “And he’s already butting his nose in, anyway.”

Something squeezes tight in Mingyu’s chest, like stone fingers closing around his ribcage. He can’t name what the feeling is or what it is he wants to do with it.

“If you want to,” Mingyu says, all the words feeling strangely heavy in his mouth.

Minghao goes quiet again for a moment, leaving Mingyu with only the sound of the road rushing by.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, soft but convicted. “Yeah… I think it’s okay.”

**{* * *}**

Sometimes, Minghao catches himself considering exactly how nice it would be if he could walk around campus holding Mingyu’s hand. It’s an idle, stupid thought that comes mostly from the fact that Minghao’s hands are always cold and Mingyu functions as a space heater without the help of his own clothes. It would be nice to just be able to let Mingyu rub the feeling back into his knuckles for him.

Minghao wants a lot of silly things lately— things that he wasn’t expecting to want so badly even when he started dating Mingyu. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted anyone to hold his hand.

He’s thinking about it, watching Mingyu’s arm swing slowly back and forth. They’re walking close enough that he could reach out and take it but far enough away that they aren’t conspicuous— far enough away that Minghao can’t leech the heat radiating off of Mingyu’s body or brush the sides of their arms together.

He’s been trying to carefully calculate the distance they have to keep them in public, how he’s supposed to act when people can see both of them, what he should say when a classmate invites him out to a party. The mental gymnastics required have started to become exhausting.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, distracting Minghao from staring at his fingers with an increasingly weird level of intensity. Minghao looks over at him with a curious hum, stuffing his own hands in the pocket of his too-thin coat. Mingyu grins, waving his hand in front of Minghao’s face. “Are you still in there?”

“Quit that,” Minghao says, swatting Mingyu’s hand away with a little smile. Mingyu laughs, pulling his arm away and sticking his hand back in his own pocket.

“You’ve been glaring into space for like five minutes,” Mingyu says, his voice trailing off toward the question at the end. Minghao laughs, shaking his head, glad the cold wind is already making his face pinker than usual.

“I was just thinking,” he says, shuffling a half-step closer to Mingyu to let someone squeeze by on his other side without having to walk through the drifts of snow piled up on the edge of the sidewalk. He does his best to shake off the desire to loop his arm through Mingyu’s now that he’s in reach.

It isn’t very busy on campus— it’s too cold to be wandering around outside without a specific destination in mind, but there’s a surprising crowd of people clotting up outside one of the buildings, pressed together in a tight knot and shoving at each other. 

Even from a dozen feet away, Minghao can smell the tension gathering in the air, the overload of pheromones sitting hot and metallic in the back of his throat like the taste of blood. It’s not hard to figure out that if the fight hasn’t started already, it’s about to. Minghao doesn’t make any conscious choice to step off of the neatly cleared sidewalk to walk through the snow directly toward the commotion, and he doesn’t think about the fact that Mingyu is one step behind him. As much as he doesn’t want to get pulled into a fight that has nothing to do with him, instinct keeps pulling him forward like a magnet. He shoulders his way through the outer rim of the crowd— past a pair of Betas trying their best to pull their Alpha friend away.

In the center of the crowd are three Alphas, two of them standing over the other with bared teeth. Minghao can feel the vibration of their snarling in the center of his chest, the pace of his heart speeding up in response. The Alpha on the ground is curled in on himself, elbows covering his head and knees drawn tight up to his stomach, protecting everything vital that he can manage.

It isn’t until he moves— trying to lunge off the ground and pull one of the other Alphas down that Minghao recognizes him.

He doesn’t actually know Hyungun well. They only met a handful of times and never actually talked again after Minghao let himself out of Hyungun’s apartment early on a Saturday morning to sneak back into his own room and hope that Jun wouldn’t bother him about where he was. But what he does know is that he’s a economics student, tall and broad through the shoulders but ultimately soft-spoken. He has a dimple on one of his cheeks.

Minghao knows he’s gay and not exactly shy about it. He’s not sure if he’s the one shaking or if the Earth under his feet is just crumbling away. Everything starts blurring together too fast; one of the Alphas shoves Hyungun on his back and Hyungun’s teeth snap together inches away from his throat just before he gets hit hard right along his jaw.

They wind up wrestling together on the ground before someone finally gets brave enough to step in and start pulling them apart. Hyungun gets pulled up to his feet, blood running from the corner of his mouth and down his cheek, wheeling on the person holding him with wide, wild eyes. It must be someone he knows, because he settles a little, letting himself be dragged back, leaving a wide gulf of empty space between him and the other two Alphas.

One of them, the one who was on the ground and has a slowly leaking cut over his eyebrow, leans against his friend and spits on the concrete in front of Hyungun, his lip still curled up in a snarl. “Fag.”

Hyungun lunges forward again, almost pulling away from the girl holding onto his arm. Minghao feels like he’s spinning; like all the air has been compressed out of his lungs.

Mingyu’s hand on his shoulder makes Minghao nearly jump out of his skin, his hands stuffed in his pockets doing little to mask the way his whole body is shaking.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Mingyu says, pulling his hand back when Minghao looks up at him. Minghao can’t tell what face he must be making, but Mingyu frowns, reaching out to grab Minghao’s arm, pulling him away from the rest of the crowd. Minghao stumbles a little, letting Mingyu drag him along, trying to drag air into his lungs.

The other people gathered have started to disperse as well, no longer interested since the fight is over. Mingyu’s hand slides away from his arm and Minghao whines from the back of his throat before he can stop himself, soft and distressed.

“Hao? Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, his eyebrows creeping together.

Minghao shakes his head, then nods, pushing both hands back through his hair and covering his face with his palms for a few seconds. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”

He can hear exactly how far from fine he sounds.

“C’mon,” Mingyu says, nudging Minghao back the way they came, walking close to him with one arm out like he’s scared he’s going to have to catch Minghao if he falls. “Let’s just go back.”

“You have class,” Minghao says, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. He agreed to go and get coffee with Mingyu before he went to class, as much as he didn’t want to be outside in the cold. Mingyu just rolls his eyes, his hand resting on the small of Minghao’s back for a quick second.

It doesn’t take them very long to get back to the apartment, or maybe it does and Minghao just doesn’t notice, he isn’t really sure. He groans, sitting down on the couch with his jacket and shoes still on, uncomfortably warm and leaving chunks of snow to melt into cold puddles on the floor. He pushes his face in his hands again, leaning over his legs and trying to make the turning of his stomach stop.

When the couch dips from the weight of Mingyu sitting down next to him, Minghao flinches, leaning instinctively the other way.

“Minghao?” Mingyu asks, his voice tentative. Minghao picks his head out of his hands to look over at Mingyu, one arm reached out toward him like he was going to touch Minghao but now can’t decide if he should or not. It’s not hard to read the worry in his face— Mingyu has never been good at hiding much of anything anyway, but now the concern is leaking out of his pores.

“It’s—” Minghao means to tell him once again that everything is fine, but his stomach constricts again and he can’t force the words out, curling in on himself and squeezing his eyes shut.

He’s surprised by Mingyu’s hand resting on the back of his neck, but he doesn’t shy away from it this time. He leans into it, until he ends up halfway in Mingyu’s lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder and Mingyu’s arm wrapped around his back.

“We can stay here,” Mingyu says, his voice vibrating the top of Minghao’s head. “You might wanna take your coat off though.”

Minghao nods but doesn’t actually move to do anything, burying his face against the side of Mingyu’s neck and breathing in the familiar, earthy smell of his skin.

“I know him,” Minghao says, his voice still a little unsteady. “The guy they were beating up.”

“He’s a friend of yours? I’m sorry,” Mingyu says, his thumb rubbing little circles into the nape of Minghao’s neck. 

“No,” Minghao says, sighing and pulling his face away. He’s reluctant to leave the comfort of Mingyu holding onto him but it’s too easy, too tempting, to sit there and let Mingyu hold onto him and say nothing at all. “We hooked up last year.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, dropping his arms slowly. “What is it, then?”

Minghao shrugs his jacket off, leaving it draped over the end of the couch, yanking open the laces of his boots without looking up at Mingyu’s face.

The quiet stretches out between them for a long time and Minghao isn’t sure of how to even begin to explain.

He only remembers things in bits and pieces… He remembers dragging himself up a flight of stairs with his wrist bent wrong, Jun's fingers cold and touching his face, sitting on the floor and crying like a child while Jun called for help. He remembers promising himself that no one else would see him cry after that.

He remembers the way Doyoon refused to meet his eyes after; thinking that hurt as much as the broken wrist and the wrapped up ribs, the concussion, the way people left cruel notes stuffed in his locker for months.

Minghao is still cowardly enough to want to lie to protect himself from all of that again, and he's selfish enough to ask Mingyu to lie for him too.

But Mingyu isn't cowardly, or selfish.

“I got in a fight a long time ago,” Minghao says, the tips of his fingers still shaking no matter how hard he tries to make them stop. He curls his hands into fists, looking down at his white bleached knuckles. He’s never really talked about it before— he’s never even tried.

“You have that scar from it, right?” Mingyu asks, brushing his fingers tentatively over Minghao’s ribs. Minghao nods slowly, grabbing Mingyu’s wrist and guiding it to the proper spot over his shirt.

“Some people caught me kissing another Alpha,” Minghao says, his hand curling tighter around Mingyu’s wrist without meaning to. Mingyu guides their palms together instead, lacing his fingers through Minghao’s. “It didn’t really go over that well.”

Minghao isn’t sure exactly how he ended up curled against Mingyu’s chest once again, but he’s glad for it. Mingyu’s other hand is stroking up and down his back, slow and warm, and it’s almost enough to lull the sharp stabs of anxiety in Minghao’s gut.

“Jun-hyung said you had a tough time in the past,” Mingyu says, frowning, his arm around Minghao’s back still warm and steady.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, biting out a bitter laugh. “You could call it that.”

“Is that why you don’t want people to know we’re dating?” Mingyu asks. His voice is smaller than Minghao is expecting— like he’s scared to ask. Or maybe scared of the answer.

“I think it’s easier to keep it a secret,” Minghao says after a long moment passes. “It’s hard to tell what people will do if they know.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t um, tell you earlier,” Minghao says, leaning back to look at Mingyu’s face properly, chewing the inside of his cheek. Mingyu’s hand falls away from his back, but his touch lingers still. “I didn’t know how to talk about all of this… I still don’t, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says, his smile still faintly sad at the corners. Minghao isn’t sure if that’s from not being told or an effect of the story itself but it reminds him a little too much of the last time he had to have a conversation like this with Mingyu, though at least it’s not in their bathroom while Mingyu’s face is bleeding. At least neither of them had to get punched in the face before Minghao managed to say something.

But he doesn’t like the reminder of how quickly his relationship with Mingyu could go strange and unsteady again, and it only makes the lingering worry that much worse. Minghao feels kind of like all his organs have been stuffed into the too-small space of his chest, everything a little too tight and constricted.

“This stuff all gets twisted up in my head,” Minghao says, startling himself a little with the sound of his voice. “Jun-hyung has been bugging me for weeks to bring it up but I just wanna keep everything in the past.”

Mingyu looks at him, his head leaning slightly to the side, considering. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Minghao says, a little more sharply than he means to. But Mingyu smiles, slow and genuine, nodding his head.

“Then that’s all I need,” Mingyu says, lifting one of his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothing is easy right away. The rest comes with time.”

Minghao laughs, leaning forward and tucking his head against Mingyu’s shoulder. He’s not sure what exactly is funny— maybe it’s just the sheer relief finding the easiest way out of him.

“When did you get so smart?” He asks, looking up at Mingyu with his eyebrows raised. Mingyu sticks his lower lip out in a pout.

“I’m always smart,” he says, poking at Minghao’s ribs. “You just never listen to me.”

Mingyu’s whining makes him laugh again, unwinding some of the tight knot in the middle of his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only matters rly to me, but I gave the fic a shiny new summary!! Look at it. Isn't it pretty?


	14. are & be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No. But could I talk to you for a minute?”
> 
> “Oh,” Mingyu says, casting a glance back at Minghao. “Right now?”
> 
> “I don’t want to interrupt your lunch,” Yoochan says, his voice shooting a little higher in tone as he talks. Minghao resists the urge to roll his eyes at all the syrupy Omega pheromones rolling off of him. “I just had a question for you.”

Minghao isn’t really expecting Jun to volunteer him and Mingyu to go along to yet another party thrown by Joshua’s friends after the first one ended up going perfectly fine. He probably should have, though, knowing Jun the way he does.

He can’t help but feel guilty, even if he doesn’t mind going, for dragging Mingyu along only to ignore him the exact right amount for people not to suspect anything about their relationship. He’s been edgy for the past week anyway, after seeing Hyungun with a pair of Alphas trying to rip his throat out in the snow. It’s probably why Jun decided he needed a night out to try and relax. And well, maybe Jun is good for something because Minghao is actually almost having fun. This party is much smaller than the last one, though it’s still mostly populated with people he doesn’t know.

Jun keeps mysteriously appearing every time Minghao’s drink is nearly empty, carrying a new one with him. Which means Minghao is sort of buzzed and really wants to see if there’s a dark corner where he can spend a few minutes with his tongue in Mingyu’s mouth.

Mingyu isn’t far away, an identical red plastic cup to Minghao’s in his hand, draping one arm over Jeonghan’s shoulders while he laughs.

It’s strange to watch Jeonghan after finding out from Jun that he’s gay, or at least serious enough about dating another Alpha to move in with him. Minghao keeps expecting that he’ll see something different, something he missed that might have tipped him off earlier. It’s not, after all, like Jeonghan is hiding things and over the years Minghao has gotten adept at spotting for people who might be interested in him.

(Seungcheol is far more his usual type, but that’s beside the point.)

He doesn’t mean to be weird, especially with someone he doesn’t know that well to begin with, but when Seungcheol wanders in from a different room to wrap his arms around Jeonghan’s waist, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek, Minghao can feel his own face go red in response. He can see the way Mingyu blinks, still smiling but more nervous, his eyes darting around the room until they land on Minghao.

Jeonghan’s attention has shifted from Mingyu to Seungcheol, no surprise, so he probably doesn’t notice the anxious wideness to Mingyu’s eyes. Minghao forces himself to quit staring when Seungcheol sets his teeth against Jeonghan’s shoulder, nipping at him like a puppy demanding someone play with him. The whole thing makes him feel funny— empty and excited and jealous all at once. He wants to march right up to both of them and ask how they can be so comfortably intimate with each other even with the disgusted looks people throw in their direction.

The air against Minghao’s skin feels abrasive and he sets his cup down on the nearest surface he can find, pushing his way through the people around him until he gets to the (thankfully empty) bathroom. He elbows the door behind him shut so hard it rattles softly in the frame, twisting the lock closed too.

He’s splashing cold water on his face when someone knocks. He opens his mouth to snap at them to go away, the handle turning against the lock, but the person beats him to it.

“Minghao? Are you okay?”

It’s Mingyu because of course, it is. Minghao weighs his options for all of a second and a half before unlocking the door and opening it to pull Mingyu inside with him. Mingyu yelps in surprise, watching Minghao lock them in once more.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Mingyu asks, looming nervously in the corner. Minghao shakes his head, pushing his slightly damp bangs back from his face.

“No,” Minghao says, not sure if he really sounds convincing or not. “I just needed a break.”

“Oh, okay,” Mingyu says, drifting back to the door. “Sorry. I’ll just, um.”

“You’re already in here,” Minghao says, biting down on the urge to laugh. “I’m not whipping my dick out. Just stay.”

Mingyu giggles, leaning his back against the counter instead, a soft smile on his face. “Do you wanna go back home?”

Minghao thinks it over for a moment before shaking his head, bumping his hip against Mingyu’s. “Nah. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t realize that Jeonghan-hyung was dating Seungcheol-hyung,” Mingyu says, his body leaning lightly toward Minghao’s in a way that Minghao isn’t sure is totally intentional.

“Jun told me about it,” Minghao says, turning to lean against the counter as well rather than staring at himself awkwardly in the mirror. “They just moved in together.”

Minghao wonders what he could have if he wasn’t scared to reach out and take it.

Maybe it’s because he’s been drinking, or because something about Mingyu makes Minghao forget exactly why he wants to keep everything so close to the chest, but Minghao pulls Mingyu into a kiss anyway, because he wants to and because he can. Mingyu makes a surprised, squeaky sound against Minghao’s lips, a hand resting on his hip, keeping himself from losing his balance. Minghao licks into his mouth, slow and relaxed. Mingyu still tastes sharp and sweet like whatever he was drinking and Minghao’s fingers dig into his shirt, holding him there.

Mingyu doesn’t try to pull away though, his free hand coming up to cup around Minghao’s cheek, thumb brushing over the arch of his cheekbone. As much as Minghao knows that making out with Mingyu in a stranger’s bathroom at a party is no way to keep his secrets to himself, he can’t quite erase the part of himself that wants it anyway.

But that seems to just be par for the course when it comes to him and Mingyu. He’s spent the last few months proving that when Mingyu gets involved, his judgment is far from sound.

When he pulls back from the kiss, Mingyu laughs his nose wrinkling, bending his head forward to rest against Minghao’s.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, barely restraining another burst of giggles.

“Maybe,” Minghao says, tracing his thumb over Mingyu’s lower lip. “I kiss you when I’m not drunk, y’know.”

Mingyu purses his lips, pressing them to the pad of Minghao’s finger. 

“We should probably go before we get caught,” Mingyu says, speaking with Minghao’s thumb still resting against his lower lip. Minghao nods, pulling his hand back reluctantly, trying to laugh off the squeeze in the middle of his chest.

“Yeah,” he says, stepping back before he tries to haul Mingyu into another kiss and distracts them both. “You go first.” 

Mingyu laughs again, twisting open the lock and slinking through the door as best he can with his giant frame. Minghao stays after the door shuts, counting back forty-five seconds or so in his head before sliding out himself, leaving the door hanging open behind him.

The caution probably doesn’t mean much; no one really pays all that much attention to what he or Mingyu are doing or if they’ve both disappeared for the same amount of time for no reason. Even when he sees Jun again, all Jun does is push another mixed drink into his hand and grin.

“You’re having fun, right?” He asks, just on the edge of demanding, voice loud. Minghao can’t exactly fault him for any of that, so he just smiles and lets himself be wrestled under Jun’s arm.

“Yeah,” he says, sipping the drink as he’s dragged off. “It’s fine.”

**{* * *}**

Yoochan, when he takes his seat next to Mingyu, sets down two coffee cups, the paper bottoms clicking softly as they rest on the plastic top of the table. Mingyu blinks, jolting upright in his seat before laughing.

“You brought coffee,” he says, picking up the cup and twisting it to look at the messily scrawled order. It’s more cream and less sugar than he usually gets but he figures complaining about free food is bad manners.

“I said I would,” Yoochan says, pulling his chair out and taking his seat with a smile. “Someone has to make sure you don’t fall asleep.”

“I won’t,” Mingyu says, but he takes a grateful sip of the hot coffee anyway.

“That’s good. I need a friend who understands this stuff better than I do,” Yoochan says, resting his own cup against his lip, looking over at Mingyu with his foxy eyes turned up in a smile. “I can’t ask you to tutor me if you’re always falling asleep.”

“Tutor?” Mingyu asks, cocking his head slightly to the side, setting the coffee down. 

“If you have the time for it,” Yoochan says, his back slightly turned, digging through his bag. “I think I’ll need the help and you seem to get this better than I do.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna do fine,” Mingyu says, giving his head a little shake. He feels a little mean though and he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I can go through stuff with you sometime if you need me too.”

“That would be awesome,” Yoochan says, with a smile that shows off the bright points of his teeth. “I’ll only steal a little of your free time, I promise.”

Mingyu nods and tips his head with a long yawn, squeezing his eyes shut. Yoochan laughs, patting the back of his hand, the cold touch of his fingers making Mingyu jump a little in surprise.

“Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” Yoochan asks, sounding amused.

Mingyu thinks about how Minghao sat down on the couch and said they were going to finish a movie for real this time. They’d failed— halfway through, Minghao was pushing him down on the couch and mumbling how bored he was against Mingyu’s mouth.

They fell asleep on the couch after, TV still on, which explains both why Mingyu is tired and the cramp in his legs.

“I guess,” he says, hoping it’s not obvious that his cheeks are burning. He takes another sip of the coffee, trying to hide his face behind the cup as best he can. He definitely can’t get away with thinking too hard about that in class.

“Do you need someone to make sure you get plenty of rest, too?” Yoochan asks, laughing a little, brushing his fingers over Mingyu’s forearm before pulling his hand back.

“No,” Mingyu says, still trying to contend with his own wandering thoughts. “I just got caught up watching something with my roommate.”

“Oh, I remember him,” Yoochan says, bobbing his head in a nod. “Isn’t it sort of weird? Living with another Alpha like that?”

This question, at least, doesn’t make Mingyu’s throat tight with anxiety. It predates the point that his relationship with Minghao had anything _more_ attached to it than just moving in together because the rent was good.

“Not really,” Mingyu says, lifting his shoulders in a quick shrug the same way he always does when people ask if he spends all his time wanting to rip Minghao’s throat over petty disagreements. “We get along really well.”

“I guess that’s better than the alternative,” Yoochan says with a little peal of laughter attached.

Part of Mingyu wants to ask if Yoochan thinks he’d willingly move in if he couldn’t stand to have another Alpha living in his space, but the class starts before he gets the chance.

He thinks better of it, anyway.

**{* * *}**

It’s the third hour of the four that Mingyu figures he’ll need to actually finish this paper and get a decent grade on it. He’s spent the time shut up in his own room, sitting in the slightly uncomfortable chair at his desk, trying to keep himself away from outside distractions.

He would really, really like a distraction at this point. Usually, he’d go throw himself in Minghao’s bed and complain until Minghao gave in and at least cuddled him for a little while, but he went out with Seokmin to take pictures and didn’t say when he would be home.

Meaning Mingyu will have to settle for distracting himself. He drags himself away from the desk, giving his own bed a look before opening the door and abandoning his own room altogether. He sprawls out in Minghao’s bed instead, kicking his jeans off and nuzzling his cheek against one of the pillows.

The whole apartment is mingled with the scent of both of them by now but even with as much as they share the space, Minghao’s bed still just smells like him. Mingyu shuts his eyes, breathing in and letting Minghao’s scent linger in his lungs and the back of his throat, groaning softly when he lets his breath out. They haven’t really been good at living together, dating _and_ keeping their hands off of each other.

It means that even in such a short window, Mingyu has plenty of memories dragged up by sniffing at Minghao’s sheets and rubbing his palm over his dick. Like Minghao wringing two orgasms out of him in a row just to prove that he could, or rolling Mingyu on his tummy and sliding his dick between his messy thighs— letting his knot swell up between the squeeze of them so Mingyu could feel it, or coming in streaks across Mingyu’s stomach and looking at it with a bright, possessive gleam in his eyes.

Mingyu whines low in the back of his throat, pushing his face into the sheets and slipping his hand past the waist of his boxers. He wraps his fingers around his cock, feeling it swell harder under the touch, curling his legs toward his stomach and stroking himself slowly.

He’s so engrossed in his own thoughts— working for his hand over his cock, teasing until he’s all the way hard— that he doesn’t hear the sound of the front door opening or Minghao setting down his heavy photography equipment.

In fact, it isn’t until Minghao stops in the doorway and clears his throat loudly that Mingyu sits up and realizes he’s there.

“Um,” he says, hand still stuck inside his shorts, face burning red.

“Guess it’s a good thing Seokmin didn’t come in,” Minghao says, a smirk on his face.

Dating or not, Mingyu is embarrassed enough to wish that Minghao’s bed were capable of swallowing him up entirely. Minghao drops his bag in the doorway, walking over with his head tilted to the side, his grin getting wider.

“I thought you were busy all afternoon,” he says, laughing softly. Mingyu flushes, pulling his hand away from his dick and giving a half-hearted shrug.

“I got bored,” he says, smiling a little when Minghao leans in closer. He tilts his face, angling for a kiss, only to be surprised by Minghao’s mouth dragging along the side of his jaw instead, inhaling slowly.

“You’re gonna make the whole apartment smell like you,” Minghao says, licking the corner of Mingyu’s jaw, right over his hammering pulse. “Junnie complains every time he comes over.”

“Not my fault,” Mingyu says, leaning his head back, his voice dizzy. “You’re the one who wanted to mess around on the couch.”

Minghao laughs, the sound vibrating over Mingyu’s skin, sliding onto the bed himself. He keeps planting open-mouthed kisses on Mingyu’s jaw, under his chin, tasting him and making Mingyu’s cock twitch in his boxers, reminding him of its sudden neglect.

“I don’t care anyway,” Minghao says, his fingers weaving into Mingyu’s hair and pulling so his head is leaning back between his shoulders, exposing his neck all the way. It makes Mingyu shiver, going pliant under Minghao’s hands in a way that’s becoming startlingly familiar. He never would’ve expected that it would be so easy for him to block out every natural instinct and give into the much greater desire to just do what Minghao wants. 

It always seems like it surprises Minghao too, because when Mingyu melts back against the sheets he sighs, breath tickling Mingyu’s skin, nails scraping gently over his scalp.

“You smell so good,” Minghao says, mouth still on Mingyu’s jaw. “Did you really come in here just to roll around on my sheets?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, less embarrassed to admit it when Minghao’s asking. “It worked out, didn’t it?”

Minghao giggles again, pressing his mouth against Mingyu’s. Mingyu hums, arms loose around Minghao’s back, pulling him in closer. He does his best to shove the urge to rub himself up against Minghao’s leg to the back of his mind, groaning when Minghao’s teeth tug on his lower lip. Minghao’s knee slides between Mingyu’s thighs, tangling their legs together, and Mingyu can feel Minghao’s cock going stiff in his too-tight jeans.

“Hey,” Minghao says, pressing another slow kiss to Mingyu’s lips. “Do you wanna try something?”

He’s gotten used to Minghao asking this question, and it always makes his stomach lurch through several excited flips. He nods, fingers dragging down Minghao’s back to grasp at his hips.

“Like what?” He asks, only thinking to pose the question after he already agreed.

Minghao grins, leaning back only just far enough for Mingyu to make out his face, the tips of their noses nearly brushing. “I’m gonna have you fuck me.”

For a long moment, Mingyu’s brain is nothing but radio static, the idea alone enough to fry all the functioning bits of his mind.

“I didn’t think you would, um,” Mingyu says, after clearing his throat hard, his hips rolling forward against Minghao’s without his permission.

Minghao’s thin shoulders lift in a shrug. “I like it both ways.”

Mingyu’s stomach drops straight through the floor but Minghao shoots him a crooked smile, apparently not at all troubled by the way Mingyu may or may not be leaking brain out of his ears.

“I… yeah, I want to,” Mingyu says, skimming his fingers up Minghao’s side and taking a shallow, uneven breath. “I really want to.”

“Lay back for me,” Minghao says, pressing on Mingyu’s shoulders, and Mingyu is quick to comply. He leans his back up against the pillows, swallowing hard and watching Minghao stretch to the side, pulling the rapidly depleting bottle of lube out of his drawer. “And take your shirt off.”

Mingyu follows that instruction as well, tossing it to the floor before pulling Minghao’s belt open for him, jerking the leather out of his pants so quickly the fabric hisses, the buckle clattering loudly as it hits the ground. Minghao laughs but doesn’t tease Mingyu for his eagerness, setting the lube to the side and stripping the rest of his clothes off, his motions quick and sure. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek, watching Minghao’s clothes pile up on the floor, resisting the desire to pull him in to just continue kissing him.

Minghao sits up instead, balancing his weight on his knees and stretching his back out in one long line. He shuffles forward until he’s sitting over Mingyu’s lap, grabbing the bottle of lube and holding it in the air between them.

“Do you wanna do it or should I?” He asks, leaning his head to the side with a grin. Mingyu huffs, snatching the bottle from his fingers and leaning up to kiss the side of his neck, tongue peeking out to taste his skin.

“I will,” he says, his mouth moving against Minghao’s skin. He wraps his arms around Minghao’s sides, flipping the plastic cap open and letting the cold, slick fluid run over his fingers. Minghao hums out a little laugh at his eagerness, scraping his teeth along one of the tendons of Mingyu’s neck.

For a second, with his cool fingers teasing around Minghao’s tight rim, all Mingyu can think about is how badly he wishes Minghao would bite him for real, just once. He can’t ask— the dark, round bruises possessive Alphas leave on their partners are hard to mistake and even harder to explain. It doesn’t stop Mingyu from leaning his shoulder forward and whining softly, pulling his own mouth away from the swell of Minghao’s shoulder.

He can’t give Minghao one either, as much as he’d like to.

He presses the pad of his finger against Minghao’s hole, sliding it in carefully when Minghao nods his head. Minghao groans in the back of his throat, bearing his weight back against Mingyu’s wrist. 

Minghao is tighter around his finger than any Omega that Mingyu has ever slept with. It makes Mingyu shiver, thrusting it more carefully than he probably needs to. Minghao’s back arches, reaching one hand back to grasp Mingyu’s wrist and guide him at the right pace, ducking his head forward.

“There you go,” he says, his voice stretched and raspy. “Keep going.”

Mingyu slides in a second finger and Minghao moans, pressing the sound against his neck, his nails digging curved lines into Mingyu’s wrist.

“Okay?” He asks, his other hand rubbing nervously up and down Minghao’s thigh. Minghao nods his grip loosening after a few seconds.

“It’s been a little while,” Minghao says, breathing out a heavy sigh between his words, eyes half-lidded. He rolls his hips back and Mingyu takes that as a sign to go back to fucking both fingers in and out of him, stretching Minghao’s rim on the width of them.

One of Minghao’s hands curls against the side of his throat, guiding Mingyu into a kiss, tongue pushing past his lips and exploring his mouth in a way that makes Mingyu feel a little bit lightheaded. He has that same pulling feeling in his stomach, the one that tells him he should be submitting— laying back on the sheets and letting Minghao take whatever he wants. He can’t name exactly where it comes from, but he doesn’t mind it as much as maybe he should.

Alpha or not, he trusts Minghao to take charge of things; that’s all that seems to really matter. He changes the angle of his wrist, curving his fingers and dragging them along Minghao’s inner walls until he finds the slight bump of his prostate. He presses both fingers against it, hissing when Minghao’s nails drag along his shoulders.

“Fuck, one more,” Minghao says, his voice almost breaking apart when Mingyu’s fingers drag over his prostate once again, his hips jolting forward. His cock rubs up against Mingyu’s stomach, leaving a shiny trail of precome behind. Mingyu kisses along his throat, teasing the thudding of his pulse. He presses a third finger in, making Minghao’s hips arch up.

He drops his other hand to wrap his fingers around Minghao’s cock, stroking it slowly in the hopes of relieving some the tight burn of his muscles. Minghao moans, pushing into the loose circle of Mingyu’s fingers, face pressing into his shoulder. Mingyu strokes him slow and light, only enough pressure to tease, to steal a little of his attention, not really enough to get him off.

Minghao grits a whine out between his teeth, his head leaning back between his shoulders, pushing his hips back against Mingyu’s fingers.

“Yeah, good,” Minghao says, nodding his head unevenly and giving Mingyu’s arm a tug. Mingyu’s fingers drag up his hip, shivering when Minghao grabs the bottle of lube and smears a thick layer over his own palm before reaching between their bodies to wrap his fingers around Mingyu’s cock. He spreads it over Mingyu’s skin, grinning a little when Mingyu tries to buck his hips up into the touch.

He holds Mingyu’s cock in place, lowering his hips until the damp head is pressing his stretched rim. He’s slow in lowering himself down, other hand gripping Mingyu’s shoulder to balance his weight better.

Mingyu tilts his head back, shutting his eyes and swallowing the urge to groan. Minghao is tighter around him than he would’ve guessed, the heat unrelenting as his body makes space for the intrusion. His back arches, chest pressing into Mingyu’s until Mingyu is sure he can feel the beat of Minghao’s heart in his own ribs. Mingyu squeezes both arms around him, pressing his face to the top of Minghao’s head and holding him as close as he can.

It seems like a long time before their hips finally meet, Minghao humming out a little sound when Mingyu finally bottoms out. Mingyu struggles several shallow breaths into his lungs, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to stay as still as he can.

“You alright?” He asks, stroking his palm up and down the bumps of Minghao’s spine. Minghao nods, rolling his hips forward with a slow groan.

“Just stay still for me,” he says, digging his nails into Mingyu’s side and moving his hips in careful strokes, shivering as he does. Mingyu does his best to comply, tilting his head back when Minghao’s head butts up against his chin, letting Minghao mouth at his jugular. The slight press of his teeth makes Mingyu whimper, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back further.

It feels a little strange, sitting with Minghao in his lap, dick buried inside of him, and to still be letting Minghao nibble on the most delicate spots of his throat. It’s a good strange, though. He likes the feeling that Minghao is still in control, probably more than he’s supposed to.

Minghao picks his hips up and rolls them with more confidence, bouncing himself in Mingyu’s lap slowly. He still has his mouth pressed to Mingyu’s throat, just grazing the sensitive skin with his lips, and Mingyu still wishes he’d open his mouth up and leave a perfect ring of teeth imprinted right under his chin— unmistakable as possible.

He lifts his hips up this time when Minghao bounces, pushing in further and Minghao groans. He pushes on Mingyu’s shoulder, shoving until Mingyu is laying flat against the bed. Minghao plants both palms in the center of Mingyu’s chest and uses the extra leverage to increase his pace, huffing out a hard breath every time their skin slaps together.

Mingyu is forced to resign himself to the fact that he’s going to last an embarrassingly short amount of time if Minghao keeps going like this. He digs his heels into the bed, pushing his knees up and trying to buck his hips up against Minghao’s at the right rhythm but he can’t focus well enough to keep up. His hands drag down Minghao’s back to hold onto his hips instead, nails streaking thin lines over his skin.

“Good, right there,” Minghao says, his voice sounding like its still stuck somewhere in the middle of his chest. He grinds his hips down against Mingyu’s, letting Mingyu thrust up into him, tilting his head back between his shoulders.

For a moment, Mingyu is struck by the blinding, sentimental realization that he’s never really felt for anyone else the things he does for Minghao but he shoves it to the back of his mind to be dealt with later. 

He drags his fingers across Minghao’s hip to wrap around his cock, thumb swiping circles around the tip.

“Fuck… just…” Minghao says, his shoulders flinching inward, pushing his cock into the circle of Mingyu’s fingers. He doesn’t finish the thought but Mingyu isn’t listening either, squeezing tighter around Minghao’s cock and pushing his hips up, trying to tip over the edge and relieve the building pressure in the pit of his stomach.

Minghao pulls away before Mingyu’s knot starts to swell up in an attempt to lock their bodies together, letting out a small, frustrated sound when he does. Mingyu ends up streaking come over the back of his thighs, using his grip on Minghao’s hip to pull him forward until he’s close enough for Mingyu’s lips to close around the head of his cock.

He leverages one elbow under him, bobbing his head and taking as much of Minghao’s cock in his mouth as he can. The other hand drags over the back of Minghao’s thighs, gathering up his own release before sliding two fingers back into his stretched hole. Minghao groans, fingers knotting in Mingyu’s hair, rolling his hips forward. Mingyu can feel the slight shake in his thighs, the way his hips push forward toward Mingyu’s mouth and then back into his fingers like he can’t decide which he wants more.

Mingyu changes the angle of his wrist, twisting it to push his fingers against Minghao’s prostate, rubbing them there until Minghao’s voice shakes like it’s about to break apart. His nails scrape across Mingyu’s scalp, bitter come landing on his tongue before Minghao pulls out, the rest of it falling across his cheek and down his chin. Mingyu pulls his fingers out, looking up at Minghao with a messy, loose grin on his face.

Minghao’s eyes sink half-lidded, dragging his thumb over Mingyu’s cheek and gathering up his own come before pressing his finger into Mingyu’s mouth. Mingyu wraps his lips around it without a second thought, almost giggling when Minghao’s lips pull tighter for a second before he adjusts so he’s sitting next to Mingyu rather than kneeling on top of him.

“You’re too much,” he says, undeniably affectionate, petting his clean fingers slowly through Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu laughs, winding his arms around Minghao’s slender waist and kissing the flat of his tummy.

“Did I do okay?” He asks, more because he likes hearing Minghao say it than anything else. Minghao huffs a little laugh, dragging Mingyu so they’re both laying down, kissing his temple with a little roll of his eyes.

“Yeah,” Minghao says after a moment, draping his limbs across Mingyu’s body. “You’re good.”

Mingyu hums, soft and content, letting his eyes shut.

He likes cuddling with Minghao all the time— there’s something so natural to touching him that most of the time if they’re at home, Mingyu doesn’t even notice when he’s started. He’ll end up with his chin hooked over Minghao’s shoulder or their fingers laced together and no sense of the choice to actually initiate contact.

But he enjoys it even more after sex. Even if laying around sweaty and covered in come means he’s going to reek of Minghao for the next two days or that he’ll feel sticky until he takes a shower, Mingyu would rather that than detach from Minghao. As it is, he’s perfectly happy listening to Minghao’s breathing slow, leaning into the stroke of Minghao’s fingers in his hair.

It feels like completion— like there are parts of him he doesn’t realize are missing any other time.

Mingyu, hovering close to the edge of sleep, thinks that love couldn’t be anything else but this.

**{* * *}**

One day a week, Minghao’s schedule manages to actually line up with Mingyu, Seokmin and Soonyoung’s in the afternoon, leaving them plenty of time to actually have lunch together. It’s usually just the four of them, though sometimes Minghao pulls Jun along if he isn’t busy with other things, sitting close to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows so Seokmin can try to absorb some of the pathetic winter sunlight and stare sadly at the snow.

Minghao, always cold, doesn’t tease him for wishing for warmer weather the way Mingyu and Soonyoung like to.

It’s a nice ritual, and even though the dining hall is usually plenty full of other people, it feels like the four of them have carved out their own little bubble of space. Save, of course, for the people who occasionally drift by in an attempt to get Soonyoung’s attention.

Soonyoung, freshly informed of the fact that Mingyu and Minghao are actually dating, and that it’s a strictly kept secret, still shoots the two of them grins every time they so much as make eye contact. But even that doesn’t bother Minghao that much— Soonyoung will always be Soonyoung. His excitement comes from the same genuine care for his friends that his meddling did and Minghao would rather be surrounded by people who care a little too much than people who don’t care at all.

Minghao has his chair set in what he’s certain is the perfectly acceptable distance away from Mingyu’s— close enough that he can still steal some of Mingyu’s fries, far enough away that it doesn’t look strange.

“Why didn’t you just get your own?” Mingyu sighs, watching Minghao steal yet another fry from his food, looking over at him with a frown. Even before they were dating, the two of them were never competitive about food the way some Alphas are, and since they started Mingyu has mostly resigned himself to sharing.

Minghao shrugs, ripping the potato in half and dropping it on top of his salad. “I didn’t want that many.”

“You’ve eaten half of mine,” Mingyu says, his voice rising into a dramatic whine. Across the table from him, Seokmin tries to hide his laughter behind his hand but fails. When Mingyu shoots him a petulant look, he smiles.

“You got a large order anyway, didn’t you?” Seokmin asks, so perfectly innocent that even Minghao can’t tell if he’s faking it or not. “I thought you were just planning on sharing.”

Caught red-handed, Mingyu ducks his head and grumbles something under his breath and Minghao laughs, hooking their ankles together under the table.

He isn’t really looking out for anyone else so it’s a surprise when someone he vaguely recognizes stops a few feet away from them, rocking back and forth between his toes and his heels nervously.

He’s definitely staring at Mingyu, whoever he is. Minghao pulls his leg away and bumps his knee against Mingyu’s, shooting a look at the Omega he’s sure he’s met before but can’t quite place. Mingyu blinks at him before turning to look in the same direction.

“Oh, Yoochan-ah,” Mingyu says, sounding surprised himself. The name makes Minghao’s memory click back into place— Yoochan the Omega Mingyu went out with before that wanted to get drinks with him the last time they went clubbing. “Did you need notes from class or something?”

The Omega smiles, slightly strained, his cheeks red. His eyes sweep over the rest of the table, hesitating on Seokmin and Soonyoung both watching him curiously now as well. “No. But could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, casting a glance back at Minghao. “Right now?”

“I don’t want to interrupt your lunch,” Yoochan says, his voice shooting a little higher in tone as he talks. Minghao resists the urge to roll his eyes at all the syrupy Omega pheromones rolling off of him. “I just had a question for you.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, still confused, starting to stand up, his chair scraping across the floor. The sound of it makes Yoochan jump, laughing nervously.

“Are you busy on Friday?” He says before Mingyu is even really on his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “To go out, I mean. With me.”

Mingyu freezes. Minghao freezes. Seokmin and Soonyoung look like they’re seconds away from letting out twin gasps of shock and horror.

Logically, it makes sense that people think Mingyu is single. And if they think he’s single, that means there are probably just as many people interested in going out with him as there were before. These are all simple things to think about in the abstract, though Minghao hasn’t really spent any time on it.

It’s another thing to watch Yoochan’s cute face flush pink while Mingyu stares at him. Minghao is sitting perfectly straight and still in his own seat, trying to tamp down whatever _thing_ he’s feeling right now.

Whatever it is, it’s an ugly feeling that he really, really doesn’t want to let out in the open.

Mingyu, hovering halfway between his chair and his feet, blinks his eyes slowly four times. Seokmin is twitching in his own seat, his sense of the impending conflict making him nervous and his eyes keep darting over to Minghao like he’s expecting Minghao to start snarling over Mingyu like he’s property or something.

What’s worse is that part of Minghao wants to do that.

“I, uh, don’t think so,” Mingyu says, with a little bit of nervous laughter.

“Maybe another time?” Yoochan asks. If he’s stinging from the rejection, it doesn’t show on his face. There’s still a smile there, in spite of the way he’s blushing.

“Y- yeah,” Mingyu says, stumbling just a little. Minghao clenches one hand into a fist under the table, nails digging curved lines into his palm. “Another time.”

“I’ll see you in class, then,” Yoochan says, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder and turning and walking the other way, his shoulders curling slightly inward.

Mingyu drops back into his seat, and for a long moment, none of them say anything.

“Wow,” Soonyoung says, finally breaking the silence. “Mingyu-ya is such a heartbreaker.”

“Hyung,” Seokmin whines, wrapping his arms around Soonyoung’s and tugging on him.

“I’m just saying,” Soonyoung whines, leaning easily into Seokmin’s grasp. “It’s that handsome face of his.”

Minghao can feel the weight of the nervous glances Mingyu keeps sending in his direction, getting more frequent the longer he goes without saying anything. He isn’t _mad_ — Mingyu hasn’t done anything for him to be angry about.

But he feels… something. Sullen, maybe. Or foolish. He probably should’ve been able to see this coming. Coupled with the stupid instinctive feeling that Mingyu is his and that Minghao shouldn’t have to share him, he’s stuck finding something to say that wouldn’t be terrible.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, his voice a little low, though any hope of Seokmin and Soonyoung not listening to them talk is entirely wasted. “I’ve been sitting with him in class and he asked me about tutoring and stuff but I thought he was just being really friendly.”

That, of all things, makes Minghao force himself to relax. He sighs, glancing at where Mingyu is wringing his hands together and wishing he could take one and squeeze it.

“It’s fine,” Minghao says, trying to fit his voice into a normal tone. “It’s bound to happen, I guess.”

Mingyu nods, though the corners of his lips are still turned down. Minghao does his best to smile, hooking his ankle around Mingyu’s yet again.

“You’re not courting him, right?” Minghao asks. Mingyu shakes his head. “And you’re not going on a date with him?”

Mingyu shakes his head again and this time Minghao lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Then it’s fine. Soonyoung-hyung is right, it’s just because of that handsome face of yours.”

The compliment gets a smile out of Mingyu and he stops looking so much like a puppy waiting to be scolded by an angry owner.

“Not mad?” Mingyu asks though he sounds more amused than anything else.

“Nah,” Minghao says, leaning his cheek on his palm and twirling his fork between his fingers. Annoyed, maybe. Filled with the desire to take Mingyu home and make it obvious to anyone interested who it is Mingyu is with, maybe. A little sad that he’s the only one holding them back, maybe. 

“I’m not mad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a twitter solely for writing updates! if that's something you're interested in, you can follow @knightspur_ao3


	15. all things change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm sorry for freaking out,” Minghao says, leaning his forehead against the damp skin of Mingyu's shoulder. His hands slide across Mingyu's ribs, touching him for no other reason than he's missed it. 
> 
> “It's okay,” Mingyu says, mouth pressed to the top of Minghao's head. “I know it's not easy for you.”

Even though they’re starting to approach the first days of spring, winter might be driving Minghao just a little bit crazy.

This is best evidenced by the fact that even though he dragged Mingyu to the library with him so they would both be forced to study, rather than doze off or lay on the couch and make out with all their books left in a forgotten pile on the floor, there’s actually no studying going on still.

The two of them have somehow ended up in one dusty corner of the library, fingers twisted together, Mingyu’s face close enough that his breath is mingled with Minghao’s. They aren’t kissing— even stir crazy and desperate to avoid doing any more aperture studies, Minghao doesn’t dare— but they’re close enough that it wouldn’t matter anyway if someone saw them.

Minghao is trying his best not to think about that, though. The only person behind the desk is Jihoon and the rest of the library is quiet save for a few students occupying the various tables to study. So, Minghao squeezes Mingyu’s hands a little tighter in his own and puts all his worrying to the back of his mind, just for the moment.

“You promised you’d focus,” he says. He can feel the way Mingyu shivers a little from the brush of Minghao’s breath over his cheek, the lids of his eyes sinking a little lower.

“I will,” Mingyu says, combing Minghao’s overgrown bangs back from his eyes with his free hand. “We’re just taking a break.”

“We barely started,” Minghao says, even though he isn’t pulling away. Even though he’s trying to reel Mingyu in closer, leaning in to brush their cheeks together. Mingyu takes the hint, hooking his chin on Minghao’s shoulder and nuzzling against his cheek. His breathing is soft next to Minghao’s ear, quick little puffs of air.

Mingyu’s whole body is broad and warm, but it feels like his shoulders grow a little more compact when one of Minghao’s hands drags over his back— like he’s folding himself in to make himself easier to hold.

They stay like that for a long moment, with Mingyu gently nuzzling into him, mingling their scents together just a little too much for either of them to explain. Minghao knows he should care— he should be responsible and drop Mingyu’s hand. He should pull away and go sit back at their table before someone finds them. He should be just a little smarter than he’s being right now.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, his voice fuzzy and soft. “Can I say something? You can’t freak out.”

“What?” Minghao asks, pulling back just enough to look Mingyu in the face, rolling his eyes slightly at the suggestion that he’s so easy to panic.

Mingyu ducks his head forward, his expression pinched and nervous. His voice drags out in a mumble, too low and indistinct for Minghao to understand.

“I know it’s a library but you gotta speak up a little,” Minghao says, giving Mingyu’s hand another little squeeze. Mingyu doesn’t laugh like he’s expecting— he bites the corner of his lip, looking at Minghao before his eyes fall back to the floor again.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The world suddenly comes crashing back in around Minghao. The slight mumbling of other people in the library sounds too loud, too close, and the way his heart rate spikes makes his head hurt.

Mingyu isn’t quite looking at him, but he isn’t quite looking away either and Minghao wonders where exactly the line of _freaking out_ is.

“Okay,” Minghao says, his voice a croak.

It only takes a second for Mingyu’s whole expression to crumple. “You’re freaking out.”

As much as Minghao doesn’t want to admit to it, it seems like he can’t hide it either. His mind is racing in too many directions at once; trying to pinpoint if anyone is close enough to maybe overhear them, wondering what he should say to make Mingyu stop looking so sad, and to the same question he wanted to ask last time Jun started talking about the wonders of love.

_How do you even know?_

On his own, Minghao can’t even begin to come up with an answer. He can’t even make himself ask the question.

“Mingyu,” he says instead, refusing to let go of his hand. He wishes he could erase the strain from his voice.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of Minghao’s hand with his thumb. “You don’t… you don’t have to be ready to say it right now.”

He almost wants to laugh at the fact that _Mingyu_ is the one comforting _him_. He doesn’t, but he can feel the bitter urge welling up in the pit of his stomach.

“I just wanted to tell you how I feel,” Mingyu says, bending to lean his forehead against Minghao’s. “You don’t have to do anything just don’t like… panic and move out in the middle of the night, okay?”

“Okay,” Minghao says, shutting his eyes and letting out a heavy, shaking breath, trying to bleed out some of the tension. “I can do that.”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead more firmly against Mingyu’s, reaching up to curl a hand around the back of his neck. It’s a tiny gesture— the same thing Jun has been doing to comfort him for years. It’s protective and possessive in equal measures and Minghao isn’t sure if it’s anywhere near enough.

He wants to be able to do something more— to say something that makes things at least a little better. He wants to be able to open his heart up the way Mingyu is. He wants to ask Mingyu to stick around for whatever time it takes for him to figure it out, foolish and selfish as it is.

“I’m sorry,” he says, soft still but steadier. “I want to, I just…”

He trails off, unsure what words there are to complete that. Mingyu shakes his head slightly, pulling back just enough to look at Minghao properly. The air trapped between them is still too heavy and Minghao wishes he was better with these things.

“I know.” Mingyu smiles, slight but still there. “I can wait, it’s alright.”

Minghao opens his mouth but all the things he could say are too jumbled up in his mind to make sense of. He shuts it without saying anything, giving his head a slight shake.

“We should go back,” Mingyu says, not quite pulling away yet. Minghao doesn’t move either.

Mingyu presses one small, fleeting kiss to the center of Minghao’s forehead before he steps away. Minghao lets go of him, reluctant as he is, dropping Mingyu’s hand and trying to settle some kind of normal expression over his features. He nods for Mingyu to go ahead— it looks at least a little less suspicious that way— waiting for him to turn the corner of the shelf before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until his vision goes white.

He takes a long moment to just stand like that, dragging air in and out of his lungs by force, hoping that some vague semblance of calm will come back to him.

When that doesn’t happen, Minghao drops his hands and combs his fingers back through his hair before walking out from around the corner as well, taking his seat across from Mingyu once again, staring down at his books rather than really looking at Mingyu properly.

The strange, strained quiet that settles over the both of them is just as well. Minghao doesn’t even know where he would begin.

**{* * *}**

It turns out that getting along with Yoon Jeonghan depends more on his mood than on Mingyu’s. Or at least, that’s how it seems in Mingyu’s opinion. In spite of Jeonghan’s habit of declaring the two of them mortal enemies every time they disagree on some minor aspect of their project, it’s not actually that hard to work with Jeonghan.

He at least picks up his share with only minimal complaining and in spite of his unpredictable personality, Mingyu feels oddly at ease with him.

“Do you get asked out a lot?”

Maybe a little too at ease. But there’s not exactly anyone else Mingyu can turn to for advice on something like this. He can’t even say much to Jeonghan since he doesn’t know the details of Mingyu’s dating life and Mingyu doesn’t want to share without Minghao’s approval.

“Are you hitting on me?” Jeonghan says, lifting both his eyebrows with a grin on his face. “Because that’s a strange way of doing it.”

“No,” Mingyu says, just a little too loudly, ducking his head. The back of his neck is burning. He didn’t exactly _mean_ to ask so bluntly— the question itself just slipped out.

“No, I don’t get asked out a lot,” Jeonghan says, rolling his eyes. “Do you want to rub it in, Mingyu-ya?”

“You have a boyfriend,” Mingyu says, shaking his head in return. “I don’t think you’re missing out on much.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrow slightly and Mingyu can feel the back of his neck burning hotter.

“If you know that, why ask?” Jeonghan asks, cocking his head to the side.

Mingyu feels a little like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“I was just curious about something,” Mingyu says, looking back at the screen of his computer and clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter, really.”

“I used to have people confess to me sometimes,” Jeonghan says after a moment of trying to glare more information out of Mingyu. “But it doesn’t really happen so much anymore.”

Mingyu nods, glancing up and biting the inside of his cheek. “Since people know you’re, um…”

“Gay?” Jeonghan asks, laughing when Mingyu nods his head. “Yeah, because of that.”

There are a dozen things that Mingyu wants to ask but doesn’t really dare. He’s less concerned about offending Jeonghan and more worried that if he starts asking, Jeonghan is clever enough to put the pieces together himself.

Even so, he can see Jeonghan ticking off possibilities in his quicksilver brain.

“Are you?” Jeonghan asks. The question is plainer than Mingyu is expecting— not a joke or an accusation but a straightforward inquiry.

Mingyu doesn’t have any better idea how to answer it, though. He looks down at his lap and frowns.

Truth be told, he hasn’t really thought very hard about what he _is_ now that he’s seeing Minghao. It seemed like it would maybe be enough to have just that much figured out— he’s attracted to Minghao; he’s in love with Minghao. The answer to any greater question about his sexuality could wait.

Maybe it’s just because no one has taken the time to just ask like Jeonghan is.

Mingyu opens his mouth, shuts it again, and then frowns.

“I don’t know,” Mingyu says finally. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“If you didn’t think about it you’d just say you’re straight,” Jeonghan says, grinning like he’s caught Mingyu in a trap somehow.

“I guess there’s, um, some Alphas I could see myself with,” Mingyu says, stumbling his way through his words. He hopes Jeonghan will take it as the simple admission of something awkward, rather than a stilted attempt to lie his way out. 

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan says, leaning forward, obviously waiting on Mingyu to elaborate further.

“I’m just nervous about it,” Mingyu says, shaking his head, trying to stick to what’s true. He’s not good enough at lying to get away with it— especially when it comes to Jeonghan.

“Because people are assholes?” Jeonghan supplies, humming softly when Mingyu nods his head. “It’s not always horrible… I haven’t had anyone try to rip my throat out for looking at them the wrong way, at least.”

Mingyu’s mind turns to the scar on Minghao’s ribs and the story of where it came from and has to muffle the pained echo of emotion in the middle of his chest that he gets whenever he thinks too hard about it. “What if they did?”

Jeonghan looks surprised by the question, blinking his eyes and looking at Mingyu like he’s trying to see through to the heart of what Mingyu is asking him.

“You have to decide if it’s worth it,” Jeonghan says after a moment, combing his fingers through his long bangs. “You could hide it forever if you wanted to— but then you never get to really be yourself, either.”

That, more than anything else, makes Mingyu pause. He hasn’t thought much about all of this, at least not past the immediate future.

“Did you and Seungcheol-hyung…” Mingyu starts, then stops himself, aware of the danger of his mouth running faster than his mind can catch up.

“We didn’t see eye-to-eye on it at first,” Jeonghan says, giving his head a shake. The smile on his face is distant and fond, his lips curling up at whatever the memory is. “He likes to see the better in people.”

“You wanted to keep things a secret?”

“For a while,” Jeonghan says, leaning back on his palms with a little sigh. “I wasn’t really _scared,_ I just like keeping my business to myself.”

Mingyu feels strangely almost disappointed. Silly as it is, he can’t help but hope for an easy answer. “Has it been… okay?”

“Mostly,” Jeonghan says, shrugging a little. “Like I said, no one’s ever tried to kick my ass over it. I can handle people being dicks sometimes.”

Mingyu nods, his attention drifting back toward his notes. Jeonghan must sense him deflating because he reaches out to pat Mingyu’s knee softly, his expression softer than before. 

“I know it’s scary,” he says, dragging his fingers through his own hair once again. “You don’t have to go scream it to the whole world, though. You can start small… just the people you trust.”

“What if the wrong people find out?” Mingyu asks, wishing he could drag the words back into his mouth as soon as they make it out.

“Nothing stays buried forever,” Jeonghan says, giving his head a shake. “You just have to take it as it comes.”

**{* * *}**

Things are strange in their apartment for the next few days. The usually tight space starts to feel big and empty and Minghao isn't sure who is avoiding who but the quiet makes him feel out of sorts.

That's why he bolts awake at the sound of Mingyu's alarm when it creeps through the wall separating their rooms. Minghao winds up laying in bed, listening to the quiet sounds of Mingyu rustling around a room away, too awake to fall back asleep. 

He doesn't so much make up his mind to get out of bed as he is compelled to leave it, following the sound of Mingyu starting up the shower. Minghao lets himself into the bathroom, shedding his clothes into a pile on the floor with Mingyu's and pulls the plastic curtain back far enough to climb in himself. 

Mingyu yelps at the intrusion then looks at him and laughs, pressing a hand to his chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Minghao says, laughing a little. He reaches out, waiting for Mingyu to take his hand before sliding in closer. Mingyu's chest is wet when it presses against Minghao's, the breadth of his shoulders blocking the rest of the water. 

“Hi,” Mingyu says, a soft smile on his face, shy and excited all at once.

“Hi,” Minghao repeats, pressing tiny kisses against the side of his neck. One of Mingyu's hands slides down to the dip in his waist, arm wrapping around his back. It makes Minghao's heartbeat stumble a little.

“I'm sorry for freaking out,” Minghao says, leaning his forehead against the damp skin of Mingyu's shoulder. His hands slide across Mingyu's ribs, touching him for no other reason than he's missed it. 

“It's okay,” Mingyu says, mouth pressed to the top of Minghao's head. “I know it's not easy for you.”

“I want it to be easy,” Minghao says, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the water hitting the floor behind Mingyu. “I want us to walk together for a long time.”

He can feel the lift of Mingyu's smile against his head and the arm he has wrapped around Minghao gets tighter. “You do?” 

“Of course I do,” Minghao says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Some obvious things aren't obvious until you say them, he figures. “I wouldn't get involved like this if I didn't.”

If he didn't think he _could_ love Mingyu, once he starts to understand all of it a little better.

He kisses Mingyu's neck again, soft and chaste, shutting his eyes and breathing in the scent of him, slightly muffled by the damp air. 

“That's enough for me,” Mingyu says, nuzzling into Minghao's hair.

The air around them is hot and choked with steam but Minghao doesn't want to let go or move away. Mingyu seems to have the same thing in mind, though because he doesn’t move either, just presses the shape of his smile against Minghao’s forehead.

“You’re gonna be late,” Minghao says after they’ve already wasted plenty of hot water. Mingyu laughs, shrugging his shoulders and leaning a little to the side so the spray of the shower falls over them both. Minghao jumps in surprise, nearly slipping out of Mingyu’s grasp, barely managing to keep himself upright.

“Then I’ll be late,” Mingyu says. He brushes Minghao’s now damp hair away from his face, leaning in to kiss him slow and sweet. Minghao laughs, loosening his tight grip on Mingyu when he’s sure he’s not going to just fall over.

They manage to make it out of the shower before all the hot water for the building runs out. Minghao flops over in Mingyu’s bed, not bothering to keep his wet hair away from the pillows, towel still wrapped around his waist. Mingyu glances over at him and frowns but doesn’t complain, shaking his head, looking through his clothes with a little sigh.

“Don’t wear that one,” Minghao says, picking himself up when Mingyu pulls out a black button up from the closet. Minghao smiles when Mingyu looks back over at him, nodding at the shirt in his hand. “I was gonna wear that today.”

“You’re planning on stealing my clothes?” Mingyu says, setting the shirt on the end of the bed and sticking his lower lip out in a pout.

“Yes,” Minghao says, lifting his eyebrows when Mingyu picks the shirt up again, holding it against his chest. “Do you not want me to?”

The question makes him pause, obviously weighing the merits of the shirt versus the merits of letting Minghao borrow it. He sighs, tossing it in Minghao’s direction with a little shake of his head.

“Fine,” he says and Minghao can hear the way he’s trying not to laugh. “If you insist.”

Minghao laughs, climbing off the bed and sliding behind Mingyu, pressing into his back before he reaches back into the closet. He’s not sure if Mingyu is even aware of the way he leans back, pressing his bare skin into Minghao’s. Minghao wraps both arms around his waist, nipping softly at the exposed skin of his shoulder.

“How nice of you,” he says, grinning against Mingyu’s skin when he shivers a little. “Letting me wear your shirt without any ulterior motives at all.”

“It looks nice on you,” Mingyu says, his voice wavering slightly. He doesn’t try to pull away and finish getting dressed and Minghao is starting to feel like he’s going to be more than just a little late to class. He slides his lips over the curve of Mingyu’s neck, teeth scraping the sensitive juncture of his shoulder.

That’s all it takes to make Mingyu whine a little, tipping his head the other direction to expose his neck more. Minghao ducks his head to hide the way he’s smirking, dragging Mingyu back toward the bed, leaving the towel crumpled on the floor by the door to the closet.

**{* * *}**

“I swear if you fuck my hair up I’ll never forgive you,” Minghao says, staring at the mirror in a way he wouldn’t call _sullen_ but can’t come with a better word for, either.

Standing behind him, Mingyu laughs, his breath tickling over the back of Minghao’s neck. Minghao glances at the scissors sitting on the bathroom counter before looking up at Mingyu with a frown.

“I’m serious,” he says, shaking his head. “I might never talk to you again.”

“I’m not gonna mess it up,” Mingyu says, his thumb rubbing the back of Minghao’s shoulder in soothing circles. “I do Jihoon-hyung’s hair all the time.”

“Yeah, because he hacked it to pieces on his own,” Minghao grumbles, leaning back in the chair reluctantly. It’s not exactly comfortable— dragged out of the kitchen and into the bathroom so Minghao could see what Mingyu was doing to him. “Jihoon doesn’t care what his hair looks like.”

“If I mess it up you can give me the silent treatment as long as you want,” Mingyu says, petting his fingers through Minghao’s bangs, making the slightly uneven tips of them tickle his nose. His voice is too sweet— like he believes Minghao couldn’t possibly ignore him forever.

Minghao thinks he might be right there, but he’s not prepared to tell Mingyu that at the moment.

“C’mon, you said you trust me,” Mingyu says, leaning over to pick the scissors up. “I’ll do a good job.”

“Fine,” Minghao says since his next best option is trying to cut them himself and he’s certain he would fuck it up entirely. “Not too much, though. I just wanna be able to see again.”

“I know,” Mingyu says, laughing softly. “You told me.”

Minghao scowls, wiggling to find the most comfortable spot he can in the seat. Mingyu sighs, putting a hand on his shoulder and meeting Minghao’s gaze in the mirror.

“You have to sit still,” he says, the hint of a grin still on his face. Minghao sighs but does his best to comply, folding his hands in his lap and forcing himself to stop wiggling around.

He can see in the mirror when focus settles over Mingyu’s expression— the little fold that appears between his eyebrows and the slight wrinkling of his nose. It’s cute. Minghao is so charmed by the expression that the first snip of the scissors takes him by surprise. He doesn’t jolt, but it’s only through effort of will.

Mingyu is quiet while he works but Minghao doesn’t really mind it. It isn’t a frustrating kind of silence; like when Mingyu is holding back or when Minghao can’t come up with anything to say. It’s a comfortable quiet. The only sound in the tiny bathroom is the soft clicking of the scissors and Mingyu’s steady breathing.

If he wasn’t trying to make sure that Mingyu doesn’t chop his bangs at an angle, Minghao could almost be lulled to sleep by it. Mingyu’s fingers comb softly through his hair, pulling it into sections as he works, his mouth turned down slightly in concentration.

It’s a funny moment for Minghao to recognize the glow of contentment in the center of his chest. It doesn’t feel new, just freshly acknowledged, like all the small moments of happiness have piled up until it’s impossible not to notice.

He’d like to kiss Mingyu, just because he’s allowed to, but he doesn’t want to risk breaking Mingyu’s focus and ending up with lopsided bangs.

“I think they’re gonna look good,” Mingyu says, his voice slightly monotone, brushing hair off of the back of Minghao’s neck.

“I trust you,” Minghao says, rather than teasing him any further.

Mingyu pauses for a second and beams, his head tilted slightly forward like he’s trying to hide it. Minghao tips his head forward when Mingyu nudges him to, shutting his eyes.

**{* * *}**

It’s definitely Minghao’s fault that Mingyu misses class for the first time all semester.

He’s fairly sure that he was only allowed to leave because Minghao has classes of his own. Given the chance, Minghao would keep him trapped in bed all day.

(Not that Mingyu is really _complaining_ about it.)

What he’s not expecting, freshly showered and walking to his next class, is to run into Yoochan.

It’s not strange so much as it is awkward. He hasn’t brought up going out again since he showed up to ask Mingyu on a date at lunch, but Mingyu can feel the topic lurking just below the surface. He hesitates before lifting his hand in a little wave.

Yoochan waves back but he doesn’t smile.

“I didn’t see you this morning,” he says, pausing on the sidewalk in front of Mingyu, head tipped back to look up at him.

Mingyu laughs, his cheeks heating up, glancing away for a second. “I, um, overslept.”

Yoochan hums, his mouth drawn into an impassive line and Mingyu shifts his weight between his feet, trying to think of a polite way to escape.

“You and I should go somewhere and talk,” Yoochan says before Mingyu gets the chance to excuse himself as late and dart off. The suggestion takes him by surprise and for a moment he just blinks.

“Ah, I don’t really have time,” Mingyu says, trying his best to smile still.

“I think you will,” Yoochan says, his words slow and calm. He looks up at Mingyu in an unwavering manner that Mingyu finds unnerving, even coming from an Omega a full head shorter than him. It reminds him a little bit of the time he was carrying Jihoon on his back and dropped him. “It’s about you and your roommate.”

Mingyu’s heart stops dead in his chest. “Minghao?”

“You probably don’t wanna talk about it here though,” Yoochan says, nodding his head before looking around the busy quad. “Your place is close, right?”

He opens his mouth to say something— to disagree or to tell Yoochan there’s nothing to talk about but the look on Yoochan’s face makes him hesitate. He nods his head slowly, turning in the other direction to lead the way back.

Now that his heart is beating again, it’s going twice as fast, as usual, pounding so hard that it makes his head hurt a little. He’s glad that Minghao is already gone— slipped off for his own schedule while Mingyu was still in the shower. When he unlocks the door the apartment is dark and quiet and Yoochan brushes through the doorway past him but doesn’t go any further.

Mingyu shuts the door carefully, swallowing hard, watching Yoochan’s gaze scan over the space, his nose wrinkled slightly.

Every second he spends not speaking makes Mingyu want to twitch around with nervous energy but at least he doesn’t have to wait very long.

“So are you gay or are you just taking it where you can get it?” Yoochan asks his tone a little bitter. Mingyu’s stomach tightens up and for a long moment, he doesn’t know what to say.

He’s pretty sure neither of those things are true. It doesn’t seem to matter to Yoochan, either way.

“You didn’t seem gay before,” he continues, leaning one shoulder against the door and shaking his head. “But that’s before I saw you making out with an Alpha in the back of the library.”

“We weren’t…” Mingyu starts, then trails off. He can’t really explain what he was doing with Minghao either— taking the ill-timed chance to cough up his feelings.

Yoochan smiles, thin and razor-sharp. “I heard what you were saying.”

Mingyu’s face flushes bright red at the thought and he clamps his mouth shut before something else stupid can come out.

“Is that all over with now?” Yoochan asks, almost patronizing. “It’s a shame you’ve been wasting so much of your time.”

Mingyu shakes his head, clenching his hands into loose fists, not sure what he should say. He doesn’t want to say that it’s not over— he’d rather not to admit to his relationship with Minghao at all— but it seems like Yoochan already has everything figured out on his own.

Finally, Mingyu sighs, hanging his head forward a little, giving in. “No, it’s not over.”

“Isn’t that kind of sad?” Yoochan asks, leaning his head slightly to the side. “He basically told you to go away.”

Part of Mingyu wants to argue with him… to say that he knows Minghao well enough to understand his reaction, that he knows Minghao wasn’t saying _no_ he just wasn’t ready to give an answer yet. He thinks about Minghao kissing his shoulder and telling him he wouldn’t get involved if it wasn’t worth it. But he doesn’t think Yoochan would understand, or really care.

“What is it you want?” Mingyu says finally, shaking his head to try and clear it. He doesn’t owe Yoochan an explanation of his heart, or of Minghao’s.

“Quit messing around with your roommate,” Yoochan says, his voice drawn flat once again. “End it and go out with me and I won’t tell anyone.”

Mingyu is shaking his head before Yoochan even finishes talking, the ball of anxiety in his stomach starting to heat into anger. “Why would I do that?”

“Why would you keep fooling around with an Alpha who already turned you down?” Yoochan asks, shaking his head. “It makes more sense, doesn’t it? You’re not exactly going to be bringing him home to meet your family any time soon.”

“I’m happy like this,” Mingyu says, his voice coming out more defensively than he intends. “And I’m not gonna do that.”

“I could tell everyone I know and wait for your skinny Alpha friend to get broken in half,” Yoochan says, almost like the suggestion bores him. “But I don’t think that’s what you want to happen.”

Mingyu opens his mouth, then shuts it again before he can start whining like a distressed puppy.

Part of him wishes that he was a stronger Alpha— intimidating enough that at least Yoochan couldn’t hold something like this over his head so easily. He wishes he could go back in time and keep his stupid mouth shut.

He wants to be able to protect Minghao properly. Yoochan is looking at him like his mind is already made up and Mingyu is stuck with the knowledge that, at least for the moment, he doesn’t have any other choice than to agree.

“Okay,” he says, the words sharp and toxic as they leave his mouth. “I’ll end things with Minghao.”

“Great,” Yoochan says like he’s not upending Mingyu’s entire life. “How does next week sound?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (:


	16. like drawing blood

Minghao isn’t expecting to come home to the whole apartment dark and quiet. There’s something forbidding in the air of it and he hesitates for a second in the doorway, leaning over to pull open the laces of his boots.

“Hello?” He says, lifting both eyebrows and looking around. “Mingyu, are you here?”

There’s no answer for a moment and Minghao assumes he’s by himself for the moment, stepping out of his boots and hanging his coat up. It takes him a moment for him to realize Mingyu’s jacket is there as well and it makes him pause for a moment.

It wouldn’t be so strange— Mingyu could easily be listening to music or drifting off to sleep in his own room, but something feels _wrong_ in the air and even though he can’t place what it is, it makes tension hum in his bloodstream.

He stops outside the open door to Mingyu’s room, trying to peek inside without looking like that’s what he’s doing. Mingyu is there, slumped over in bed but awake, his long legs drawn up close to his chest.

“Hey,” Minghao says, pushing the door open with his shoulder. Mingyu looks up at him, blinking twice before he frowns. “What’s up?”

Mingyu stares at him for a moment; the silence long and heavy, his eyebrows inching together.

“I think—” Mingyu starts before abruptly shutting his mouth around whatever he’s planning on saying. His grip on his legs it tight, tense, and Minghao has a much easier time putting his finger on all the anxiety in the air now that he’s looking straight at it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when Mingyu doesn’t finish his thought. He sits down on the bed, wrapping his fingers around Mingyu’s calf and giving it a light tug, trying to encourage him to uncurl from himself and come a little closer.

To his surprise, Mingyu pulls in tighter on himself. Minghao hesitates but drops his hand, letting it lay limp beside his leg on the bed.

Minghao is starting to wonder if he should try telling jokes or cuddling up to Mingyu the way Jun does whenever Minghao won’t talk but Mingyu clears his throat before Minghao makes up his mind on trying anything at all.

“I think we should break up,” Mingyu says, almost all at once, like he can’t get the words out of his mouth fast enough.

It takes a few seconds for Minghao’s brain to filter the words properly, then a few more to struggle with it.

“What?” He says finally, his voice robbed of inflection by the surprise. Mingyu’s gaze dips for a second, taking a pair of shallow breaths before he looks at Minghao again.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna do this anymore,” Mingyu says, his voice catching in his throat. “So I want us to break up.”

Minghao opens his mouth, then shuts it before the fissuring in his chest becomes audible. Mingyu is looking at him but not quite meeting his gaze, his eyes darting off to the side. And everything… everything feels wrong. Like the rotation of the Earth suddenly reversed under Minghao’s feet and he’s still spinning in the wrong direction, at odds with everything around him.

But he was in bed with Mingyu this morning— clinging him close and complaining when he tried to leave. He’d trapped them both under the covers and kissed Mingyu’s pouting mouth until he gave in and laughed.

“Mingyu,” he says, leaning in and grasping both of Mingyu’s wrists, pulling them away from his knees. This time Mingyu lets him, stretching his legs out reluctantly— breaking the physical barrier of his body separating him from Minghao. “Talk to me.”

Mingyu refuses to look at him properly, but he can’t hide the sheen of his eyes or the way he leans in like he wants to be closer before thinking better of it and pressing his back against the wall. His jaw is tight, trying to keep whatever words are in his mouth trapped there. He smooths his thumbs over the inside of Mingyu’s wrists, feeling the fine bones and the uneven pounding of his heart.

He can see the crumbling of Mingyu’s resolve plain on his face; the quiver of his mouth and the way when he does look at Minghao, he has trouble looking away again.

“Do you remember…” Mingyu starts, then trails off and shakes his head. He pitches forward, his arms winding around Minghao and trapping his arms at his sides. Mingyu’s face ends up buried in the side of his neck, voice muffled. “You remember the Omega who asked me out before?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, rubbing Mingyu’s arms since it’s the only thing he can really reach like this. “What about him?”

“He heard us,” Mingyu says, still hiding in Minghao’s neck. “The other day.”

Minghao’s mind reels off out of control before Mingyu even finishes talking. He leans back, pushing Mingyu back by the shoulders to look at him properly.

“Heard us doing what?” Minghao says though he thinks he might know the answer to that one already.

It takes a moment for Mingyu to look at him properly and even through the terrified thudding of his own heartbeat Minghao feels the need to rest his hand softly on the nape of Mingyu’s neck, just above the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says after a moment, doing his best to keep his tone as calm as possible. It’s ruined by the tremor that creeps through his voice and Mingyu’s eyes dip before he looks up again.

“He said unless I break up with you and go out with him he’ll start telling people,” Mingyu says, his shoulders shaking slightly like he’s trying to hold back some great flood of emotion. His voice picks up speed, almost to the point of being too hard for Minghao to follow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t wanna say no and have something happen before I even had the chance to tell you about it. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut… I’m sorry.”

If he were thinking at all, it’d be easy to say that it’s not just Mingyu’s fault. The problem is that there’s horrible static silence in his mind— he spends thirty seconds staring at Mingyu, just trying to put all the pieces together in a way that makes the situation in front of him a little less fucked.

“You said yes?” He asks when he fails to come up with anything. Mingyu nods slowly, his usually bright features tight and pale.

Minghao feels something horrible and familiar starting to wedge its way between his ribs. He opens his mouth, trying to force something out, then shuts it again.

“I don’t wanna be the reason you get hurt again,” Mingyu says, his voice shaking with the threat of tears. “Even if that means…”

Mingyu trails off, unable to make himself finish the thought, it seems. He presses his face into the hollow of Minghao’s shoulder and Minghao lets him this time. He still feels half frozen and he doesn’t know if he should be holding Mingyu in an effort to comfort him or pulling away instead.

For a long moment, he’s quiet, sitting with his brow furrowed and his eyes trained on the floor like the answer is hidden there somehow. Minghao has no idea what the answer might be either— he can’t even decide if he should try to end things before they get a chance to spiral even further out of control.

It would be easier— safer, maybe. He could break things off with Mingyu and go hide out at Jun’s or Seokmin’s before things have a chance to get any worse. But as soon as the thought fully develops in his mind, he knows that’s not what he wants to do. Selfish as he is, he can’t stomach the thought of leaving Mingyu to face this alone.

He doesn’t like the idea of letting someone like Yoochan take what he already has away from him, either.

It’s almost too familiar for Minghao to cope with— caught, left with no options, the consequences of his own foolishness threatening to crush him. But there’s a voice in his head, small and hopeful, trying to point out that it isn’t all the same. Mingyu is here clinging onto him, willing to endure the brunt of the heartbreak on Minghao’s behalf.

Unfortunately, Minghao knows no better what to do with this than he did with Doyoon years ago.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” Mingyu says, the strength of it taking Minghao by surprise. “It’s not fair— I don’t want someone else to decide who I’m allowed to be with.”

Minghao could point out that it’s not that simple, but he knows Mingyu has realized that much already. He pushes his fingers back through his bangs and tries to think for the future for once rather than the past.

“I think you have to go through with it,” Minghao says. Even though he prepared for it, it hurts to see the way Mingyu’s face crumples. “At least let him think you did— we can figure something else out…”

Mingyu slumps forward like the weight of his body is too much for him. Minghao reaches out, soothing his hand up and down Mingyu’s back. Mingyu leans in, grasping at the edge of Minghao’s shirt. His face ends up nuzzled against the side of Minghao’s neck, scenting him for some sense of comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu sys, his voice muffled. “I know— I know this is hard for you.”

Minghao squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing the back of Mingyu’s neck. There’s a sense of inevitability to it— like in some way or another, there was always another shoe ready to drop.

It’s worse putting Mingyu through it too. Minghao is perhaps too used to enduring it alone because the fissuring of Mingyu’s heart is something Minghao feel just as acutely as his own.

**{* * *}**

Acting like he’s broken up with Minghao is easier said than done. Even though only a few people close to them knew about their relationship, to begin with, lying to his close friends makes Mingyu feel like the lowest of the low.

But there’s no other way to explain the sudden distance between the two of them. It’s far more than they had even before in together— a frozen two-foot canyon that neither of them dares to cross. Even when it’s just for show, it means no clinging to Minghao the way he’s used to— no scenting him before they go to class, no sharing beds or space on the couch.

Still, it’s impossible for them to completely untangle their lives from each other.

In what must be a misguided attempt at meddling, Seokmin insisted they both come over to watch a movie. Rather than taking his usual spot on the couch, crunched close to Minghao, Mingyu is on the floor, sitting as far away from the other Alpha as he reasonably can.

Enforcing the distance between them helps sell the story that they’ve broken up to the people close to them, it keeps their scent off each other more than would be considered _normal _by anybody else. It isn’t possible to get rid of entirely— not while they still live together— but it’s as much as they can do without someone moving out for the time being.__

__All of this makes Mingyu feel unbearably lonely. Until now, he hasn’t thought of how used to their life he’s become. All the simple comfort he gets from touching Minghao or catching hints of his scent on clothes or his pillows is suddenly gone and even though everything is not as it seems from the outside, Mingyu is still acutely aware of all the ways he can’t act anymore._ _

__He slumps over further, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to look like he’s paying attention to the movie rather than just sulking on his own. It doesn’t make things even better, and if Minghao notices he’ll probably just feel bad too. Minghao hasn’t had much to say about the matter— maybe because he’s accepted how things are or because he doesn’t know how to voice his worries— but the way it hangs heavy on his shoulders hasn’t escaped Mingyu’s notice either._ _

__It’s the reason that he hasn’t told Minghao quite everything; at least not everything Yoochan said in his effort to get Mingyu to go along with his plan easily. He’s already decided that regardless of what it takes, he won’t be the reason someone hurts Minghao again._ _

__Seokmin clears his throat, nudging his leg against Mingyu just enough to get his attention. Mingyu picks his head up, uncurling his limbs a little when he looks back at Seokmin. He hazards what might almost be a smile, though it’s not quite enough to be convincing._ _

__Seokmin doesn’t quite smile either. He leans his head in Minghao’s direction, the suggestion clear before he pushes himself up off the couch with a forced, cheery smile._ _

__“I’m getting more snacks,” he says in response to the questioning look Minghao gives him. He breezes out of the room and into the kitchen and Minghao sighs._ _

__“He’s trying to get us to talk,” Mingyu says, a wobbling smile on his face._ _

__“I know,” Minghao says._ _

__“I hate lying like this,” Mingyu says, his voice low enough not to be overheard. It’s not like Seokmin to hover in the doorway and listen in but Mingyu can’t shake the anxiety that’s been hovering over him for the last several days._ _

__“I know,” Minghao says, again. It’s not quite soothing, but the look on his face is clearly sympathetic. He starts to reach out then thinks better of it, dropping his hand to rest in the empty space next to him. Against what’s logical or wise, Mingyu wishes he would reach out. They’re just far enough for Mingyu to be reminded of the constant loneliness of not being closer. Minghao frowns, looking at the paused movie screen before looking back at Mingyu again._ _

__“Don’t you think…” Mingyu trails off, sighing hard and slumping back against the couch. “It’d be better if we could just tell him.”_ _

__He’s anticipating the way Minghao’s expression goes hard and closed off, but that makes it sting no less to see. He’s been doing it plenty lately; shutting Mingyu out from whatever is going on inside his mind._ _

__“It’s a bad idea,” Minghao says, barely loud enough for Mingyu to hear, even for as closely as he’s listening. “The more people who know the harder it is to keep secret.”_ _

__“I get it,” Mingyu says, slumping over further, pressing his chest against his knees and breathing out a heavy sigh. “It just doesn’t feel right.”_ _

__Minghao nods and this time he leans across the length of the couch and rests his palm on the nape of Mingyu’s neck. His thumb finds the sluggish thudding of Mingyu’s pulse and presses there gently. Mingyu shuts his eyes, leaning into Minghao’s hand and humming out a single quiet breath._ _

__“It’ll be okay,” he says, nuzzling softly into Minghao’s hand before he pulls it back._ _

__Minghao opens his mouth to say something else but shuts it again when Seokmin appears in the doorway, an overladen bowl of popcorn in his hands and a forcefully cheery smile on his face._ _

__“Sorry,” he says, bright and sweet. He hesitates before taking his space next to Minghao once again, clearly hoping they’d be sitting next to each other rather than with Seokmin in between them._ _

__Silly as it might be, Mingyu feels bad. Like he’s managed to disappoint Seokmin on top of everything else._ _

__Seokmin hesitates once more before hitting play on the film again, shooting nervous looks at both of them._ _

____

**{* * *}**

“Did you break up with _him_ or did he break up with you?” Jun asks, stretched out on his belly on his bed.

Minghao, sitting on the floor, at least trying to look like he’s studying, ducks his head forward and sighs. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Jun says, scowling when Minghao looks up at him. “I need to know who I should be mad at.”

“Why are you mad?” Minghao asks, doing his best to laugh. There’s no real humor to it and Jun hardly looks convinced.

“Because one of you is being stupid,” Jun says, leaning his cheek on one of his palms. “And I’m trying to figure out if it’s you or not.”

“I’m not telling you,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes and turning to glare at his book once more. “It just encourages you to try and get involved.”

“I should be involved!” Jun says, puffing his cheeks out indignantly. He sits up, leaning over to grab Minghao’s shoulders and shake them, making it impossible for him to focus. “You broke up with Mingyu and you won’t even say why! This has my name written all over it!”

“No, it doesn’t,” Minghao says, peeling Jun’s hands off of him and turning around to give him a sour look now. “There’s nothing you can do about it and you don’t need to know anything else. It’s already done.”

“You’re still living together,” Jun says, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“You want me to move out now?” Minghao says, raising his eyebrows. “In the middle of winter?”

“No,” Jun says, a slow smile curling over his face. “And you don’t want to, either.”

“I like my apartment,” Minghao says, his voice edging a touch defensive.

“And you like what’s in it,” Jun says, nodding. “So did Mingyu-ya end it?”

“Leave it alone,” Minghao says, sighing out hard. He slumps forward slightly, shaking his head. “We agreed we’d wait out the lease so no one gets charged extra.”

“How amicable,” Jun chirps.

As determined as Minghao is not to give the game away, it might not matter when it comes to Jun. They’ve known each other too well, for too long, for keeping secrets to be an option. Minghao doesn’t even bother trying to keep Jun out of his business most of the time. He figures it out eventually, anyway.

For the first time in a long time, Minghao has something he feels like he can’t entrust Jun with. Not because he thinks Jun won’t take it seriously, or because he thinks Jun will run and start telling people… every person outside of him and Mingyu who knows could just as easily be at risk and it’s not fair to pull Jun in.

He doesn’t miss seeing the sad, resigned look on Jun’s face either. He’s had too much of that already.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” Jun asks when Minghao doesn’t answer him.

“I’m really not,” Minghao says, turning back to his studying.

“You know I’ll find out anyway,” Jun says. It’s not a threat— the way he says it is a reminder, cheerful and easy.

Minghao’s stomach still squirms uncomfortably at the thought.

“Please, ge-ge,” he says, more seriously than before. He doesn’t look at Jun but he knows the tension in his shoulders and his neck must be obvious anyway. “Leave it alone.”

For a moment, Jun is quiet and Minghao can feel the way Jun’s eyes are trying to bore into the back of his head.

Then, he sighs. “Fine.” When Minghao looks up, Jun has an uncommonly serious look on his face. “But whenever you’re ready to give it up, I’ll be waiting.”

“I know,” Minghao says, a little quieter this time.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu is far less than lackluster in planning out his date with Yoochan. In spite of his agreement to go along with the whole thing, he finds another place to sit in the one class they share so he doesn’t have to try to feign interest or excitement in the matter, even if it means Yoochan casts him a few huffy looks from across the room.

Maybe it’s playing with fire— he could always end up pissing the Omega off more than he intends to and send the whole thing crashing down— but it’s hard to make himself want to interact with someone so willing to ruin his life. He thinks that if it weren’t for Minghao and his past, he would let Yoochan tell whoever he wants and let the chips fall where they may.

But he can’t do that to Minghao and so when Yoochan gives him an address and a time, Mingyu promises that he’ll be there. For once, he doesn’t try to consult Minghao’s opinion on an outfit, though the other Alpha does hang around the doorway to his room the whole time Mingyu is getting ready with a frown set on his face.

Mingyu glances over at him and tries to smile, adjusting the way his shirt is sitting on his shoulders. “Are you, um, staying home?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, his shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

It doesn’t matter that he knows Minghao’s frustration isn’t directed at _him._ It rolls off of him in waves of clear hostility— the tight set of his jaw, the way his eyes follow everything Mingyu does like a predator. Mingyu isn’t even sure if Minghao is aware he’s doing it or not. Lately, it’s impossible for him to even begin to guess at what’s going on inside of Minghao’s head.

“I’ll text you before I come home,” Mingyu offers, a little less chipper. It doesn’t really help to try and put a nice face on the situation, he supposes. It certainly doesn’t seem to make Minghao feel any better.

“Okay,” Minghao says, peeling himself away from the door. He’s still frowning and for a moment his eyes land on Mingyu’s bed like he wants to take up space like he usually does.

Mingyu had to wash his sheets on their own three times to get the embedded scent of Minghao out of them and he missed it as soon as he realized it was gone.

Minghao blows out a sigh, shaking his head and pulling his gaze away from the bed. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry again.”

Mingyu bites the words back from the tip of his tongue, his ears burning. Minghao’s expression softens at the edges and he looks at Mingyu like he’s seeing him properly this time.

“It’s not your fault,” Minghao says, his fingers twisting around and around his own wrist. “I’m not trying to make it harder. I know you don’t want to be a part of this either.”

There’s a pulling in the center of Mingyu’s chest— the desire to scoop Minghao up in his arms and smother him in kisses and make everything feel okay again. It’s harder than he thought it would be to walk on eggshells all the time, even at home. Before, all the secrets that Mingyu kept he could at least let go of in the confines of their apartment.

Now, there’s no escaping. Mingyu combs his fingers through his hair and tries to come up with something to say. Something that won’t just make things worse in the end.

He _is_ sorry, but not just for the reasons that Minghao seems to think. He’s sorry for his mistakes but he’s also sorry he can’t come up with some better way to fix them either.

“Go on,” Minghao says, shaking his head. He doesn’t smile but his voice is gentler. “You can’t be late.”

“Minghao…” Mingyu starts, taking a step forward and reaching out toward him. Minghao edges a step back and there’s an ache in the center of Mingyu’s chest like a fist squeezing around the chambers of his heart. He stops, standing in the middle of the room— a ship un-moored and set out to sea alone.

“You have to go,” Minghao says, his shoulders raised defensively around his neck.

“I don’t want to,” Mingyu says, futile as it is to point out.

“I know.” Minghao steps forward, stopping when there are still several feet of space separating them. Mingyu wishes he wouldn’t stop— wants to reach out and pull Minghao into his arms and hang onto him until the world seems like its spinning properly again.

He doesn’t try— he knows Minghao wouldn’t let him, anyway.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Minghao says, his back stiff when he turns and walks out of the room. He leaves Mingyu wishing he’d said something more, though he has no idea what. In many ways, there’s nothing left for either of them to say about the matter. It can’t be resolved by the two of them trying to talk it out, after all.

Mingyu slouches forward, trying to shove all his feelings to the back of his mind as well.

It doesn’t work and he’s forced to abandon the effort and leave himself before he actually does risk being late.

**{* * *}**

The place Yoochan picked for their date is one Mingyu hasn’t been to before. It’s a restaurant with a hip vibe— loud music and food that Soonyoung complains is too pretentious for anybody to really enjoy as much as they say they do.

It makes Mingyu feel weirdly better. The last thing he wants is to run the risk of running into any of his friends here. He knows exactly how it would look from the outside— like he broke up with Minghao and started going on dates the week after with the same Omega who showed up to ask him out in front of everyone. There would be nothing Mingyu could say about it either.

Yoochan is already there when Mingyu arrives, dressed sleek and dark with a smile on his face. He’s wringing his hands together before he notices Mingyu on the sidewalk a few feet away like he’s actually nervous.

Mingyu wonders bitterly what he has to be so anxious about.

He notices Mingyu and smiles a little wider, dropping his hands to his sides and tilting his chin up to look up at Mingyu. “I’m glad you came.”

He sounds almost surprised by it. Mingyu wants to point out that the didn’t really have any choice but he’s supposed to make an effort here. To act like Yoochan doesn’t already have one of his arms twisted behind his back.

“This place seems nice,” Mingyu says, instead, trying to sound as neutral as possible. “I haven’t been here before.”

Yoochan takes another step forward, shrinking the space between them, an expectant look on his face. Mingyu knows what he’s supposed to do here— what it would be _polite_ to do. It makes his stomach churn in an unpleasant way. He doesn’t have to step forward any closer, just lean in slightly for Yoochan to bump their heads together in a friendly greeting.

He still nearly shies away before they even make contact— the familiarity seems out of place given the situation and the last thing he really wants is Yoochan touching him. But he manages not to pull back immediately, clearing his throat awkwardly when Yoochan drops back to the flat of his feet.

“We should, ah, go inside,” Mingyu says, his fingers clenched inside the pockets of his jacket, staring just over Yoochan’s shoulder.

Yoochan smiles, all the anxiety gone from his posture now. Maybe Mingyu is a better actor than he thought, or maybe Yoochan doesn’t care if he’s into the date or not. It doesn’t seem to matter either way. Mingyu follows him in through the door and tries not to stand too close while the waitress finds them a table.

On a normal date, Mingyu would be trying to make conversation but he stands stiff and quiet next to Yoochan, trying to look like he’s not having the absolute worst night of his life.

He does pause to pull Yoochan’s chair out for him, something he’s never been bold enough to do for Minghao, struggling to put a smile on his face when he sits down.

“I’m surprised I managed to find a restaurant you haven’t tried,” Yoochan says, bright and conversational, a smile on his face. “I know you’re really into food.”

“I haven’t gone out that much lately,” Mingyu says, speaking faster than he means to. The more Yoochan tries to make this all the stranger the whole thing seems.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yoochan says, the tilt of his smile taking on a fox-like quality under the low, romantic lighting. “Since you didn’t have to leave the house. I get it.”

The way his voice lilts suggestively over his words makes the back of Mingyu’s neck burn— a mix of embarrassment and frustration. It pulls at some protective instinct in the back of his brain, hearing Yoochan talk about Minghao. It isn’t like he knows anything about what their relationship is— was— like. He wouldn’t care, either, judging by the way he expects it to have been so easy for Mingyu to give up.

Mingyu doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say since he can't yell or just walk away. He looks down at the menu instead, saying nothing, his hands tight around the paper in them.

He forgets what he orders as soon as the waitress walks away, and says almost nothing except for answering questions Yoochan asks him directly. It’s impossible to focus— to do anything more than just pick at his food while Yoochan talks in his direction.

As much as he tries not to, Mingyu can’t keep himself from wondering what Minghao’s doing— sitting at home by himself all night. It makes him twitchy and impatient to get the whole thing over with, even though he’s moving food around the plate more than he’s actually eating anything. He wants nothing more than to just leave and go home… to curl up with his head in Minghao’s lap and have the other Alpha pet him.

He wonders if Yoochan is going to expect a kiss from him before they leave and how many of these dates he’s going to have to sit through before one of them finds a real solution to this problem.

**{* * *}**

True to his word, Mingyu does send Minghao a message when his date finishes. Minghao curled up in a ball on the couch with a book in his lap, glares at the screen of his phone for a moment, wondering what he’s supposed to say in response to that.

He gives up before he comes up with an answer, flipping his phone over and returning to staring blankly at the book. He’s read no more than a dozen pages all evening and he’s starting to wish he did go somewhere else. Even lurking in the library would be better than sitting around just waiting for Mingyu to finish and come home. There’s always the option of barging in on Jun or Seokmin, but neither of them truly know what’s going on and Minghao can’t explain it to them either.

Mingyu comes in looking like a puppy caught rooting around through the trash and smelling so saccharine sweet that Minghao wrinkles his nose in distaste without meaning to. It only increases the guilty look on Mingyu’s face and Minghao tries to school himself into looking neutral before he makes everything worse.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, slouching under the weight of his own frame, hanging his coat up by the door.

“Hey,” Minghao says, forcing himself not to bolt up from the couch and press Mingyu into the wall so he can scrub the offending scent off him before he even makes it into the rest of the apartment.

Mingyu opens his mouth, then stops himself with a shake of his head. He slinks forward, draping himself across the couch, nearly in Minghao’s lap.

Minghao, mostly in response to the pull in the back of his mind that tells him to drape himself on top of Mingyu and get rid of the offending scent, flinches in the other direction. It doesn’t go unnoticed— Mingyu blinks at him, his expression crumbling further.

“Sorry,” Minghao says, curling into the edge of the couch a little harder. “Did everything go okay?”

“It was fine,” Mingyu says, softer than Minghao expects. He sits up, widening the space between them, looking every bit like a kicked puppy. “Not exactly the most romantic thing in the world.”

He nods, though it’s hard to really focus on what Mingyu is saying to him. It’s not for lack of trying but Minghao can’t fully ignore the scream of instinct in the back of his mind telling him that what’s in front of him is _wrong_.

“I think I should go,” Minghao says, dragging himself off the couch and pushing both hands back through his hair.

“You’re leaving?” Mingyu asks, tilting his head back to watch Minghao stand up. He moves as well, reaching out and gently grabbing hold of Minghao’s wrist. “Right now?”

In spite of himself, Minghao growls, staring down at where Mingyu’s fingers are wrapped around his arm. Mingyu’s eyes blink wide, surprised, dropping his hand and tucking his chin close to his throat defensively. Minghao shakes his head, the back of his neck flushing hot with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Minghao says again, standing frozen in the middle of the room while Mingyu stares at him. “It’s just the smell…”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, swallowing hard and leaning back. He lifts his head slightly and Minghao leans forward a little, unable to help himself, lip curling over his teeth. The sudden flash of desire to pin Mingyu down to the couch and do everything in his power to erase the offending scent off of him is so strong that Minghao can’t think of anything else.

“I can’t stay here,” Minghao says finally, shaking his head sharply back and forth.

“I can take a shower,” Mingyu offers though the both of them know already that it won’t help. It’s worse than just the scent that clings to Mingyu’s skin— it’s the knowledge that as much as he wants to, Minghao can’t do anything about it.

“I’ll go stay at Jun’s,” Minghao says, shaking his head again. As much as Mingyu looks like he wants to argue, he doesn’t. He stays seated on the couch while Minghao gathers up clothes and shoves them into a bag, sending Jun a message just saying he’s coming over to stay on the couch.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, his voice slight, watching Minghao shrug a coat on his shoulders.

“Me too,” Minghao says, not quite meeting his gaze. He doesn’t have anything left to say, not really, so he lets himself quietly out the door. He’ll apologize for real later on when he no longer feels the need to sink his teeth into Mingyu’s neck and leave behind _proof_ that Mingyu is his.

For now, he just trudges quietly through the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was a long two weeks, huh?


End file.
